


The Scourge

by Epicbttrfly24



Series: Scourge and Moonbeam Take on the World [1]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Punisher (Comics), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angry Frank Castle, Angry Harry Potter, BAMF Frank Castle, BAMF Harry Potter, Bad Albus Dumbledore, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Harry Potter, Extortion, Frank Castle Loves to Swear, Frank Castle is Harry Potter's Mentor, Frank Castle is NOT Mr. Miyagi, Frank Castle is a Good Dad, Gen, Good Severus Snape, Good Voldemort (Harry Potter), Gun Violence, Harry Potter Has Issues, Harry Potter was Adopted by Other(s), Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), Helpful Death Eaters, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Kind of Slow Burn in the Beginning, Luna Lovegood’s Epic Poetry, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Master of Death Harry Potter, Mercenary Harry Potter, Minor Character Death, Murder, Neville Longbottom Needs a Hug, Pretty Much All the Minor Character Deaths, Ragnok is Awesome as a Business Partner, Revenge, Slytherin Harry Potter, Smart Harry Potter, Swearing, Threats of Violence, Torture, Wandless Magic (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:55:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 46
Words: 160,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28394976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epicbttrfly24/pseuds/Epicbttrfly24
Summary: Harry Potter was ordinary. (According to himself.) Harry Potter was a freak. (According to everyone else.) Harry Potter had no friends, nothing good to look forward to in his life and generally no feelings about much of anything. That is, until he meets Frank Castle one afternoon, when they're both running.Frank helps Harry look at his life, find what he wants, and take what he wants. Frank shows Harryhow goodsome feelings are… like vengeance, and how good it feels to fight back when you have been sovery, verywronged in life. Frank helps Harry turn from an ordinary boy into something more, something that will strike fear in the hearts of his enemies...The Scourge.-Where The Punisher steals a child and raises him in his image, helping him get his revenge in a distinctlynon-magicalway-*Please read the tags. This is not a 'nice, sweet Harry Potter' story. There's murder, violence, gore, etc... be aware before you read. Rated M for a reason.*
Relationships: Frank Castle & Harry Potter, Harry Potter & Wade Wilson, Luna Lovegood & Harry Potter
Series: Scourge and Moonbeam Take on the World [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2173779
Comments: 350
Kudos: 481





	1. On Being Ordinary

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own anything from the Harry Potter universe or the Marvel universe, I just borrow for fun.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry’s life is ordinary, as far as he knows.

**\--- September, 1987 (Seven Years Old) ---**

**\--- Little Whinging, Surrey, England, Great Britain ---**

If you asked any of the children at St. Gregory’s Primary School what Harry Potter was like, they would probably look at you and ask, “Who?” After a little prompting and maybe a short description of him (with his messy jet-black hair, perpetually broken glasses, lightning bolt scar on his forehead, and poorly fitting clothing,) you might receive a more elaborate answer of, “Oh, you mean _The Freak_.” On the other hand, if you were to eavesdrop in on what the teachers said about him, you would probably hear their hushed voices whisper, “That _poor_ child, but with an attitude like that…” or “Oh, haven’t you heard?? His aunt told me _all_ about him. She warned me and now I have to keep an eagle eye on him in class so that he won’t cheat or steal.” 

However, if you were to ask Harry Potter what Harry Potter was like, he would look at you with his owlishly large green eyes hidden behind ugly, thick broken glasses, hair all mussed and a smudge of dirt on his nose, and he would say, “I’m ordinary. I’m nobody. I’m nothing special at all.”

Harry Potter lived in a very ordinary house, according to the Dursleys and their neighbors, at Number 4 Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey. There was nothing that made Number 4 stand out from any of the other houses at all (which made the Dursleys _very_ proud.) It had an ordinary fence surrounding the ordinary garden in front of the ordinary house with an ordinary front door. Despite the ordinariness, however, Harry’s Aunt Petunia could often be overheard speaking to her bridge partner about how her garden was the _most fetching_ on the street (yet, she maintained, still within the bounds of ordinary.) Harry had a suspicion that the garden was only so well-tended and becoming because _he_ was the one who was doing all the work. Nonetheless, he would probably never get any of the credit from either his Aunt Petunia _or_ her bridge partner.

The house itself looked fairly comfortable when one walked inside. There were framed pictures on the neutral cream walls of Harry’s Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Cousin Dudley. There were more of Cousin Dudley by himself than of the whole Dursley family together (and there were _obviously_ none of Harry.) These pictures were given pride of place on the wall where everyone could see them when they walked inside. His Aunt and Uncle were so _very_ proud of their Dudders.

The house was spacious enough, with its neutral and ordinary color scheme. In fact, it was so spacious that Dudley was even allotted _two_ rooms: one for himself and one solely for his toys. Sometimes, when he was able to stop and think about it, Harry wished he had a toy. He obviously did not believe he was special enough to warrant a whole _room_ of toys, since he was so ordinary and forgettable, however he did think that having one toy would be nice.

As it was, Harry Potter had no toys. He barely had a place to sleep. He was, he figured, happy that his relatives even thought to give him the cupboard under the stairs to call home. He supposed they could have followed through on any one of their threats to have him sleep out in the garden shed, or any other such place. Although, when he thought about it, it would probably look bad to the neighbors if they saw a small, somewhat dirty, 7-year-old child living in a garden shed outside of a perfectly normal house. It might make the Dursleys look a little _less_ normal and ordinary.

Harry lived what he thought was a typical life for a 7-year-old. He would wake up with his Aunt pounding on his cupboard door at 5 am, yelling that he needed to get up and get breakfast done for the family. She would unlock his cupboard (most of the time) so that he could emerge and quickly take care of his hygiene needs. Some days, however, she forgot to unlock the door and then blamed him for not moving fast enough. He hated those mornings. She always made the daily strikes across his knuckles with the wooden spoon before he started cooking hurt the worst those times. They were also the days he would have to move as quickly as he could so that he would not anger his Aunt further, or worse, anger his Uncle at all.

After cooking breakfast for his family and making sure that they were satisfied (even though he was still quite hungry himself, having not eaten anything from the family breakfast,) he would do the dishes while they chatted about their day. Sometimes he would imagine chatting with someone about _his_ day, but no one ever really wanted to talk to _The Nobody, The Freak_. So, he stayed silent. Dishes done, he would ensure that his morning chores were complete before trying to run out of the house to catch the bus to his primary school. Of course, Dudders often tried to trip him up, either figuratively or literally, so that he would miss his ride. This would, of course, cause him to have to run the many blocks from Number 4 to St. Gregory’s Primary School, usually causing him to be late. And again, of course his teachers took notice. They frowned at him when he rushed into the classroom to sit down. He would drop his eyes to his desktop and slouch down in an attempt to go unnoticed. It never worked. Cousin Dudley always pointed out how late he was and that he should probably get some sort of punishment.

He was lucky to be attending St. Gregory’s though, according to his Aunt and Uncle (and the teachers, and his Uncle Vernon’s _horrible_ sister Marge.) He _should_ be attending St Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys, or so his Uncle said. Harry wondered why he was not at St. Brutus’s, but he thought it might have to do with the fact that he was not considered “criminal” enough. He was not quite sure what that entailed so he would have to do some more investigating as to what a “criminal” was. Maybe that school would be better than the one that he currently attended. They probably did not throw rocks at you or play “Harry Hunting” or push you down to the ground when you passed them by. When had Harry first started attending St. Gregory’s he thought that he might get a small break from people treating him in such a hurtful manner. Unfortunately for Harry, he found that all of those hurtful behaviors from inside his home were in the outside world as well and were quite… ordinary, it seemed.

Between ducking away from the other children on the playground who liked to hit, punch and kick, and keeping his head down in class so that his teachers did not sneer or turn their noses up to sniff at how positively odd he was, Harry tried to stay out of trouble as much as he could. His life at Number 4 consisted of being as quiet as he could to avoid any undue interaction with his relatives. If he completed all his chores and did not make any noise, they often forgot his existence. This only came back to bite him in the rear a couple times when he was out gardening after dinner and his Aunt and Uncle locked him out of the house, forgetting that he existed. Now, Harry was not necessarily _sad_ that they forgot about him, it was just a cold evening and he ended up having to huddle under the bushes to keep warm. The next morning the whacks on his knuckles were _extra hard_ because he had purposely hidden away from Aunt Petunia (according to her) and was a “filthy, naughty little _Freak_.”

One day, while Harry was running away from his Cousin and his Cousin’s _horrible_ friends (because, although _they_ were relishing the current game of “Harry Hunting”, Harry was definitely not enjoying it at _all_ ,) he ducked into a wonderfully ancient looking, huge building. Swinging the doors open, dashing inside and quickly shutting them behind him, the smell of rich musty old books and a bit of dust hit his nose. Harry looked around and noticed rows and rows and stacks and stacks of books. It looked like there was a book on every subject in the whole world in this building! He never got to read enough in school. The teachers said he was consistently being antisocial by keeping his nose in a book (whatever that meant) and needed to interact with others more (which usually led to more people sneering at him and calling him a _Freak_. Frankly, he thought, if that was “interacting” they could keep it!)

Harry gasped as he walked further into the building. Looking to his right he saw a large wooden desk with a thin-ish older woman behind it. Her hair was an ashy gray and piled high on her head in a frizzy, messy bun. (Harry would later describe her hair as more of a gunmetal shade of gray, but he hadn’t quite forayed into the world of firearms at this point in his young life.) She had a colorful polka dot bandana tied around her head to match an equally garish colorful beaded necklace. Her dress was more like a smock, Harry supposed, tie-dyed with pinks and purples, oranges and blues. Harry quite liked the way that she looked. She did not look… ordinary. Not at all.

She regarded him with kind eyes and a soft smile and beckoned him over to talk with her. Harry slowly walked forward, making sure to be quiet and seem respectful. He did not want to do anything that might make him leave this wonderful place with all these books!

“Hello there, young man,” the kind looking old lady said. “Welcome to the Little Whinging Library. Did you come here alone?”

Harry peered up at the woman through his messy bangs that had fallen in his eyes, “Yes ma’am. I just discovered this building. You have _a lot_ of books here.” He looked around again as he said that, his eyes growing larger as he saw just how vast the number of books was.

“Yes, we do, young man. Do you have a library card?”

Harry looked back at the woman in confusion. “No ma’am. No, I don’t. Do I need one to be inside this building?”

The woman gave a slight chuckle, her eyes crinkling at the sides as she continued to smile at him. Harry felt something uncomfortably warm inside him at the smile. He did not know what was making him feel that way. Upon consideration, historically he did not really know what to do when someone smiled at you. It hadn’t happened that often in his short life. He wasn’t too sure he liked it, as it made him feel a little embarrassed. Feeling a little awkward, he figured he would treat it like everything else and ignore it. After all, it was easier to just not take notice of any of his feelings (besides, the Dursleys never took any notice of him having feelings about anything.) Strong feelings, or really any feelings coming from Harry, according to Aunt Petunia, were just too “freakish” … just like him. They were not _ordinary_ and just _not done_.

“You do not need a library card to be in here, no, but you do need one if you are going to take any of the books home with you to read,” she told him.

Harry snapped his head up in surprise. “You mean I could take one of these books with me?” He exclaimed in wonder.

She nodded and explained that he would need to have an adult come and fill out a library card and sign it for him so that there would be a record of where the books were going, and where they could reach him if one of their books did not get returned in time. Harry’s heart sunk at the news. No adult that he knew would sign for him to have a library card. His Aunt and Uncle would certainly not sign anything for him. He offered to give his address (as he was smart and had learned it a two years earlier) but she kindly, yet sternly, maintained that an adult would have to sign for him.

Despondent at the news, Harry felt all his dreams of reading these wonderful books slipping through his fingers. The woman looked down at Harry and said, “You know, just because you can’t take a book from the library to your house, young man, does not in any way mean that you cannot enjoy reading it while you are here.”

Harry looked up at her with a kernel of hope growing in his chest. He could stay. He could stay here and read! He could stay here, away from those horrible children who wanted to hurt him, and read to his heart’s content. Here, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would not find him. Here, Dudley and those horrible children would _definitely_ not find him. And here, maybe, just maybe, he might find a little reprieve from his life.

The nice lady took him from place to place in the library, giving him a tour and showing him all the sections of the different genres of books. From fiction to non-fiction. From very hard to read at his age, to very baby-ish books that he had already outgrown. Harry was in _heaven_.

When she went back to her desk, Harry went to the section where he could find a dictionary. He looked up the word criminal, having asked the nice old lady to verify how to spell it. “Crim-i-nal: a person who has committed a crime. _‘These men are dangerous criminals.’_ See also: villain, lawbreaker, evil, bad.”

Harry looked at the definition of the word criminal for a long time. This was what they thought of him? They thought he was bad? A villain? They thought he was _evil_? Pondering this, Harry moved from the dictionary to the section where he had seen the wonderful picture stories. He loved comics and picture stories. He didn’t get to read them very often, but it looked like this library had quite the selection. He thumbed through the typical hero books about Batman and Superman, thinking that they were good if you liked that sort of thing. He looked a little longer at Spiderman because it seemed cool to be able to shoot webs from your wrists to incapacitate your villains. (Something that apparently Harry was, so maybe he shouldn’t be rooting for the heroes so much.)

And then, toward the back of the stack, misfiled and pushed behind the other comics after the s’s, was a comic that caught Harry’s eye. The cover was black with a white skull on it and the skull seemed to be melting down, like it was made of white blood or maybe drying paint. Harry wasn’t quite sure. He plopped himself down in front of the shelf, crossed his legs and leaned over the comic book. He had just begun to open the comic when he heard someone quietly clear their throat somewhere close to him. Guiltily slamming the comic shut and jerking his head up he looked around in front of himself. He saw nothing there, so he quickly turned his head to the side where another small cough had come from. Standing there with a stern look on his face, he saw the biggest man he had _ever_ seen in his _whole life_.

“Hey, kid.”


	2. On Making a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wonders if his first real friend even knows what ‘normal’ is.

_“Hey, kid.”_

**\--- September, 1987 (Seven Years Old) ---**

**\--- Little Whinging Library ---**

Harry’s eyes travelled from the bottom of the man’s dark black boots to the top of his dark black, military style haircut. He was wearing scuffed leather boots that appeared to have a very hard steel toe in them and had probably walked quite a few miles. His jeans were a dark gray, almost black. There were no visible holes in them, but Harry could tell that they had been worn for many years. His shirt was tight and black, but on the front, under the man's crossed arms, Harry could easily see the same picture of the white dripping skull that graced the front of the comic book that he was currently (barely) holding in his limp grasp. The man also had a very worn leather trench coat that came down just behind his knees. On his hands there were black leather gloves that looked like they were worn down in certain areas more than others. 

Harry also noticed, when the man shifted his stance, that there was a black leather belt around his waist that held clasps for suspenders. ( _Of course_ it was black leather. Harry was sensing a theme with this man.) On the suspenders he could just barely see the holsters of two guns. (Were those even allowed in here?) When the man moved a little more, Harry could make out _more_ gun holsters and guns strapped to his thighs. (Yeah, Harry was pretty sure that those were not allowed inside the library – but _he_ was not going to be the one to tell this man he had to take his guns outside. Maybe the colorful old librarian would let him know instead.) To put it mildly, the man was simply _huge_ , and quite scary looking. Harry was more than a little intimidated at the sight of him. His arms alone seemed to be the same size around as Harry’s whole head, not to mention his thighs! (As he looked at him, though, Harry wished that he was that big. As it was, he was the absolute smallest in his year, even smaller than some of those a year below him. He figured it might have something to do with all the running he had to do to get away from Cousin Dudley and his _horrible_ friends, but he wasn’t too sure.)

Even though the man’s look was quite menacing, Harry had to admit that it looked pretty awesome. (He even kind of wanted a whole outfit like that for himself.) He did have to wonder, though, how many guns one person needed. He could see (probably) four on this man, but that (potentially) meant that there were more. (And, if Harry was smart in estimating the danger of this man, which we have already established that he _is_ smart, since he learned his address a whole two years ago, he would have to say that this man posed quite the threat to those around him.) Not to mention, he might have other weapons hidden on his person too! What was he doing in a library? Even scarier than that, _what was he doing talking to Harry_?!?

The man cocked his eyebrow, glanced down at Harry and grunted. “You done lookin’?”

Harry scrambled to his feet, dropping the comic in the process, and wiped his hands down the front of his pants to dry off the nervous sweat that had formed when he was looking over the scary man. “Erm,” Harry mumbled, “Hi?”

The man snorted inelegantly. “Hi? Yeah, sure, kid. Hi.” 

The big man paused and looked around the room. Harry watched as he took in all his surroundings. He seemed to scan each area quickly, looking for something, seeing it wasn’t there (or seeing that it _was_ there, Harry wasn’t quite sure, honestly) and then he moved on to scan other areas of the library. He made sure to also quickly look at each of the exit doors under the glowing exit signs, as well as the windows that were high up on the walls, yet propped open due to the unseasonably warm autumn weather. He seemed satisfied with his perusal of the library and turned to refocus his attention on Harry (who wasn’t quite sure that he was happy about the man’s undivided attention just yet.)

“Um, who are you?” Harry asked in a meek voice, feeling like his knees were going to give out at any moment due to his nerves. The library may have been a place to escape Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and Cousin Dudley, but he sure wasn’t expecting to find a gigantic, scary _murder man_!

“Francis, well, Frank. Frank Castle. Although, some people do call me The Punisher. I prefer that name most of the time, since it seems to make people a little more scared of me. And scared people are much more likely to do what I want them to do. Remember that, kid. Keep ‘em terrified and they’ll do whatever shit you want them to. The scared ones will _always_ do what you want. But, anyway, you can call me Frank,” he replied. He tilted his head to the side, observing Harry as he fidgeted under Frank’s gaze. “And, just who are you, kid?”

Harry lifted his head and replied, “I’m nobody. I’m just a _freak_ ,” Harry whispered, almost under his breath. 

Frank looked him up and down again, glowered some more and, if possible, looked even more menacing. “What do you mean, _freak_?”

“Well,” Harry said slowly, trying to explain as nicely as possible to the lethal looking man in front of him, “I’m nothing. At least that’s what my relatives tell me. Everyone says that I’m just a freak, nothing special at all.”

“Bullshit,” Frank spat out vehemently. “You don’t look like _nothin’_.”

Harry cowered a bit, expecting a cuff across the back of the head like his Uncle Vernon would deliver when he was angry with Harry’s backtalk. “Um, should you be swearing around me so much?” (Later in his life, when Harry looked back at this first conversation with Frank - who had all those weapons strapped to his person and who was gigantic next to a tiny Harry, a kid of merely 7 - he figured it was a bit ballsy for him to presume to question the fact that Frank was swearing around him. It was probably a bit crazy to question Frank at all. He probably _should_ have just assumed that in Frank's life Frank would be allowed to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, however he wanted and to whomever he wanted. Mostly, because he looked quite like he could demolish anyone who said otherwise.)

Frank grunted, crossing his huge arms across his chest again. He looked down his nose at Harry and sneered. “What kind of family have you got that they talk that kind of shit to you? Your parents say those things?”

Harry lowered his eyes. “No, my parents are both dead, sir.”

“Awe shit, kid, I’m sorry that they’re gone. It sucks to lose your family, I should know.” Frank mumbled the last part, making Harry strain to hear the big man's words.

“No, it’s not a big deal, really,” Harry replied nonchalantly, lifting one shoulder in a half shrug. “They both died in a car crash when I was a baby. My dad, or at least who they _think_ was my dad, was drunk off his arse and my mum was probably high or some such nonsense. At least that’s what Aunt Petunia says. She told me that they were filth anyway and the world is better off losing them. I guess they also hated me, but I don’t remember back then, so I’m not really sure." Harry shrugged again. "She says that’s what explains me, the freakish nobody that isn’t wanted because of who my parents were and what they made me into. That does explain where I got my scar, though.” At this, Harry lifted his bangs from his forehead a bit and showed Frank the scar in a zig-zag shape.

The large man grumbled as he heard Harry explain about his parents' deaths so matter of factly. He looked at the scar and leaned forward, reaching out to touch Harry’s forehead. When his finger made contact, a warm tingly feeling radiated out of where he touched. Harry stiffened. It wasn’t a bad feeling, per se, just weird. 

“What do you mean, ‘at least who they think was your dad’?” Asked Frank, after straightening back up.

“Oh, um, well according to my Aunt Petunia and my Uncle Vernon’s sister Marge, my mum was ‘that sort of girl’ or something. I didn’t really understand it when I heard them talking, but they said that she was a strumpet and probably didn’t even know whose…”

Frank coughed and interrupted, “Ok, that’s quite enough about what people say about your mum. So, you live with your aunt and uncle. They’re the ones who treat you like dog shit?”

Harry snorted and stated flatly, “Actually they probably treat Marge’s dog Ripper’s dog shit better than me.” After stating this he let out a little gasp and flinched in preparation for a hit, “Oh! I didn’t mean to swear like that, sorry sir.”

Frank chuckled a little, seeming to ignore the flinch. It was a deep gravely noise, like he didn’t do it that often and his throat was unused to making that sound. It made Harry curious as to why it was so grumbly. “Don’t worry about it, kid. Swearing just adds spice to your language, like pepper or some other type of crap. Stick with me and you’ll have a better vocabulary in no time.” He paused for a second, considering Harry before continuing, “What’s your real name, kid?”

“Harry,” he replied quietly.

“Harry what?” Frank prodded.

“Harry Potter.”

“Ok then, Harry Potter, let’s figure out why the fuck your life sounds so shitty. I mean, it’s probably pretty bad, based on what you’ve told me, but I'd like to hear just how bad.”

So, Harry sat back down on the library floor with Frank. He crossed his legs while Frank sat with his back facing the wall and his knees bent. He looked minuscule next to the enormous man, even when both of them were sitting. He started explaining how his life wasn't really that bad at all. He was just a normal and ordinary boy. He told Frank of his relatives and his day-to-day activities. (“Those aren’t _activities_ Harry, that’s slave frickin’ labor.”) He explained his current housing situation at his relatives’ house. He told Frank that the home was quite ordinary and spacious, enough for Dudley to have his two rooms. He said he even got to have his own cupboard to stay in because his relatives were so kind to keep him inside instead of out in the garden shed, or throwing him away like Uncle Vernon says they should. (“A cupboard is _NOT_ a normal ‘housing situation’, Jesus Christ, Harry. And throw you away? What the fuck even is your life?” Frank dragged one hand down his face when he mumbled this. Harry assumed that Frank had probably just not seen many cupboards where he was from and therefore did not realize that it _was_ quite normal for someone to live in one.) And, finally, he told of his life at school and how he tried to stay out of everyone’s way so that he wasn’t a bother to anyone. (“A damn bother? You mean like you do everything for everyone, and they think you’re in the way??”)

Frank looked quite put out after Harry had finished telling him about his life. He started ranting about how angry Harry should be with his relatives. It didn’t matter if his parents were trash, Harry should fight for a better life than the one he currently had. He shouldn’t let those people treat him so badly. He should learn all he could to oppose the binds that the people in his life had put on him. He should take them all on, make them pay. And, if he couldn’t do it all just yet because he was too young, then he should at least start to educate himself on how the fuck to survive better so that he’ll be stronger than them later. Last, but not least, he told Harry that he should learn for _himself_ what really happened to his mum and ‘dad’ and not just take what other people said as the truth. “People tell lies all the time, Harry. People who want something from you or who think they are better than you will always twist the truth to their advantage. Remember that, everyone lies. _You_ have to be the one to find out the truth yourself. _Never blindly trust what someone says._ ” 

Harry didn’t quite understand the huge issue. (Other than maybe finding out the whole thing with his parents. It would be kind of nice to actually know what really happened to them and if that really was his dad.) Yes, he had to adjust some of the things he did daily in order to avoid getting hit more by Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia. (Thinking about it, they didn’t seem to hit Cousin Dudley at all.) True, he had to run a little faster to escape Cousin Dudley and his cronies who liked to beat him up before, during and after school. (The other kids didn’t really have to worry about getting beat up by the other kids on the playground at all. And, if something did happen to the other kids, the teachers would help _them_ , but not him.) Ok, so he _did_ do a few more chores than Dudley did (read: Harry did _all_ of them and more, while neither Aunt Petunia nor Dudley did any.) And the more he thought about it, it would be nice to have a little more room to stretch out in as opposed to staying locked in a cupboard. And maybe have a bed. (Dudley had a really soft looking bed. Harry bet that it was very nice to sleep on.) And, ok, yes, he _would_ like to get to eat meals without having to steal food after the rest of the family had eaten their fill. (Everyone at school and at his house ate regularly, the only person who didn’t seem to get food was him.)

The more Harry thought about all of this, the more he started to agree with Frank’s thoughts. He wondered if his life was actually as “normal” as he had always thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You will notice that Harry is very meek/OOC at the beginning of this book, however he also seems to be fairly apathetic about his abuse. This is intentional, and understandable if one had lived the way he had his whole life. Also, he does not yet know how abnormal his life is in comparison to how it _could_ be. 
> 
> Also, on a completely different note, I tend to use italics _a lot_. And, of course, thanks for the Kudos!


	3. On Epic Vigilante Origin Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry thinks that Frank might have the right idea about this whole vengeance stuff.

_He wondered if his life was actually as “normal” as he had always thought._

**\--- September, 1987 (Seven Years Old) ---**

**\--- Little Whinging Library ---**

Harry glanced back up at Frank after he thought a little about what he had said. Before meeting Frank and having their first conversation, there were no real feelings inside him regarding his life and how he was treated. Frank’s words, however, started to bring forth a new kind of feeling inside him. A burning feeling. This feeling seemed to be growing in his chest. He wasn’t quite sure what to call this feeling, but he knew he wanted to keep it. He wanted to nurture it. He wanted it to grow. He knew that somehow it would help him later as he figured out how to change from his current ‘normal’ to a different, better one. “Yes, you might just have a point there, Mr. Frank. I might not be treated as normally as I thought. In fact, my life may not be so ordinary after all.”

Rolling his eyes, Frank sighed. “Really? Well shit, kid, what gave you _that_ idea? And please, for fuck’s sake don’t call me Mr. Frank. I’m not like Mr. Miyagi or anything. Just, you know, call me Frank.”

Harry huffed out a breath and looked at Frank. “Not to be nosy (Frank had, after all gotten to hear most of Harry’s story) but why are you here?”

The big man looked around the library, then exhaled and scrutinized Harry’s small form. No one had come close to them while they were talking. In fact, no one else seemed to even notice the huge man with all his leather and guns. “I needed to escape for a while and ended up here. You looked pretty pathetic sitting there all tiny and ragged. I figured I might be able to steer you in the right direction. Maybe help you out, or some such rot.”

“What are you escaping from?” Harry asked quietly, ignoring the fact that Frank apparently thought he looked ragged. He understood that. He supposed he _did_ look a bit mussed from running from Dudley and his friends.

The big man next to him stiffened and turned to look at Harry. Eyes narrowed to near slits, Frank stared at him hard and unblinking. His fixed gaze never wavered from Harry’s face, and it seemed an age before he even took a breath. Harry doubted _he_ would have lasted that long holding his breath. Frank was apparently _really_ good at holding his breath and not even showing it. Harry wondered where he got that skill from and if he could learn it himself. Harry probably would have passed out by now. Maybe Frank could teach him (when he wasn’t quite so _‘glare-ey’_ of course.) When Uncle Vernon would choke him sometimes, Harry would lose his ability to take any breaths at all and his eyes would get all sparkly on the inside. That was when he knew he would probably pass out (as he had done a couple times before.) He also knew that his Uncle Vernon held his breath sometimes when he was getting very angry at Harry, usually because Harry hadn’t done something right. But Uncle Vernon’s face would turn very bright red during those times… almost purple. Harry didn’t know if his own face turned purple when he held his breath for a long time. He would have to investigate that.

Frank’s face, however, was not purple. Frank’s face was not even a light pink. It seemed completely normal and white, and blank of any expression except for the harsh glare that was currently pointed in Harry’s direction.

Shrinking back a little under the glare, Harry hoped that he had not said the wrong thing. Frank seemed an alright person (for being a ridiculously overly equipped, gigantic, possibly angry, potentially vengeful murderer.) He didn’t want to lose the first person to ever really have a whole conversation with him (and not hit him once!) And it sounded as if he might even want to help out Harry with getting his life fixed. (Apparently NOT like Mr. Miyagi, though… whoever that was. Harry would have to ask Frank when his eyes didn’t look like they could freeze Harry in place.) Harry’s eyes slanted over to where the comic book had fallen, and he gingerly reached out to pick it back up. He looked at the front cover and back at Frank’s shirt. Maybe he should avoid the escaping question altogether and try to get him to answer why he was wearing the same skull as his comic book.

“Um, not to be rude, but why does your shirt have the same skull as the picture on my comic?”

Frank snorted. “Probably cus it’s a book about my life, kid, or what _they_ think was my life.” Harry thought that Frank sounded quite grumpy about whoever ‘they’ were, and with the number of guns that Frank had visibly on his person, Harry thought that ‘they’ better hide. “Didn’t want them to make it, stupid people. Corporate assholes, fame mongers and money-grubbing bastards. Do anything for a buck. Not only that, but it makes it a damn sight harder for me to get shit done right and be inconspicuous if people know all about me. Don’t be like them, kid. Always be honest to yourself about who you are, fuck whatever other people think. Don’t be a damn sellout. You’ve got your honor and your pride. Lose those and you’re pretty much worth shit,” he bitched.

Harry glanced down at the comic, desperately wanting to open it up and look at it now. If it was this man’s story, it had to be pretty cool. After all, Frank looked awesome with all his guns and black leather. And Harry figured anyone who would bring _at least_ four weapons into a public library _had_ to have something interesting in their background, or at least some neat stories to tell.

Following Harry’s gaze, Frank grunted and rolled his eyes again. “They didn’t even get it all right, just so you know. They made up a lot of shit. They made me seem like something I’m not, and they blamed me for a lot of stuff I didn’t even do.” Here Frank paused, then curled his lips into a sneer and said, “Although, they missed a lot of stuff I _DID_ do, so I guess it all evens out somehow.”

Harry looked at Frank in awe. “Um, could you maybe tell me some of the things that you’ve done? I didn’t read it yet, so I don’t know anything. I mean, you do look like you’re a soldier or something. I’ve never met a soldier. Actually, I’ve never really met anyone that would talk to me like a regular person. Everyone just ignores me, mostly, or hates me.” Harry shrugged with his last comment. “Hey, why do you sound American? Are you from there? If you are from there, how did you get here?”

Putting his hand up to stop him from spiraling further into an interrogation, Frank quieted Harry with a sharp gesture. “Christ, kid, give me a break with all the questions there. I ain’t goin’ away just yet. And, sure, I’ll tell you some stories. They’ll probably help you think about how you want to make your own life better. Maybe they’ll even help you get some revenge of your own.” Frank considered Harry as he said the last statement and sent him a small smirk.

“But you _were_ a soldier, weren’t you?” Harry asked. “You kind of look like one. And you have all those guns.”

Harry leaned in closer to the man’s side, trying to see one of the guns held in the suspender holster under Frank’s coat. Frank pushed him back into his previous upright seated position. “I’ll show those to you later on, but only when I think you’re ready.”

Harry harrumphed a little. He felt he was already quite ready to see the cool guns that Frank had.

Frank chuckled at his antics. This time the chuckle was not _quite_ as gravely, but Harry could still tell that he probably did not laugh that often. This seemed normal to Harry as he did not laugh that much either. In fact, he could not remember a time when he had. He would have to think on that later.

“Believe me, kid, you don’t want to go playing with something you have no idea how to use. Weapons are to be treated with respect and care. They are not toys.”

Harry nodded his head, “Yes, sir.”

“So, what kind of story did you want to hear?”

Glancing briefly up at the clock on the wall, Harry noticed that he could probably be out for another hour or two before he would be locked out of the house. If he skipped dinner (it wasn’t like he actually got to eat anyway) and stayed with Frank until they were kicked out of the building, he might be able to hear a few stories! “Can you tell me the story of why you carry so many guns?”

Frank went quiet for a minute and Harry thought that he had made him mad again. He really wanted a story, but he didn’t want to make the man angry. Finally, with a deep inhale and a sigh, Frank seemed resigned, but he began to tell his story.

“You were right, kid, I was a soldier. Well, to be more specific, I was a Marine.”

(“What’s the difference?” “Shut up, that’s the difference. There’s a _world_ of fucking difference. To be called anything else is a damned insult, that’s the difference. And if you _still_ don’t know what that difference is, you’ll find out real quick the more you stick with me, kid.”)

“I served my country. Learned to fight, learned to shoot and learned to kill.”

(“I _KNEW_ you had killed before! I mean who wouldn’t have killed before when they carry all those guns!” “Yes, you’re real frickin’ smart, now would you shut the hell up and let me tell this goddamned story?”)

“I focused on learning all types of weapons. From handguns to Uzis, from AKs to grenades. I eventually used my skills to become a USMC sniper”

(“What’s…” “United States Marine Corps, kid. Keep up, and again, be quiet.”)

“and worked my way through many missions. I wanted to know everything the Corps would teach me to be a better Marine. I tried to learn it all. Special operations, Airborne…”

(“Like planes?” “Yeah, kid, I jumped out of them.” “That doesn’t seem all that smart, being that high up and not staying in the safety of the plane.” “Stuff it, kid.”)

“survival training, explosives, camouflage, stealth, scouting, all types of martial arts and other hand to hand combat. It was easy to learn. Easy to adapt my body to the strain. None of it really bothered me. I would get hurt, but it didn’t even cause me that much pain. They’d try to give me that poisonous shit to dull the pain and my senses, but I’d always refuse. Fuck being off your guard in a fight.”

(“I don’t really feel pain that much either. I’ve never had any of that ‘poisonous shit’, though, to help with the pain that I did have. In fact, I think at some point, if you get the same ‘hurts’ over and over, they just stop hurting altogether.” “Probably.”)

“They worked me in the Middle East in a lot of covert assignments. I would be gone for months at a time. My family would stay at home during my missions.”

(“You have a family? Where are they?” “Dead.” “Oh.” “Yeah, oh.”)

“I came back to New York to visit the family between missions in Iraq. Had some time saved up. Decided it would be a nice break for my wife and kids. Had a son and a daughter. He wasn’t that much older than you, I suppose.”

(“I’m seven.” “Shit, _seven_? You’re pretty scrawny for seven fuckin’ years old.” “Yeah, well, I run a lot.” “Hmm.”)

“One of the weekends I was back I decided to take the family to Central Park. Before you rudely interrupt again,”

(“I’m trying not to.” "You're not doing a very good job.")

“I’ll tell you that is a park in the middle of New York. Took the whole family like we usually do, and a good friend Russo. He didn’t stay the whole time. When he left, I noticed some huge gang activity going down. The cops were there for a sting operation”

(“A what?” “A sting operation. Where you stake out your prey, wait until they are vulnerable or have messed up, then attack. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you all about them.” “Good, they sound fun.” “Yeah, some can be. Some, not so much.”)

“Well, it all went ass and tits belly-up when the shooting started.” Frank paused and lowered his head, dropping his slightly clasped hands in-between his knees. He took a deep shuddering breath and continued on, “They got hit. All three of them. My beautiful fuckin’ wife and my two amazing kids, dead. My fuckin’ heart ripped out of my chest right then and there as I watched them go." Harry saw a shudder pass through Frank's body as he said this. "Should have gone with them,” he all but whispered into the quiet of the library.

Harry reached his small hand over and patted Frank on his knee. He didn’t really understand what the big man was going through as he had never really cared about anyone that much, but he had seen one of his teachers pat another student who was having a bad day one time. It had seemed to help. Harry kind of hoped it helped Frank.

Frank lifted his head and raised one side of his mouth slightly as he looked at Harry. “Thanks.”

Clearing his throat, Frank recovered his slightly more menacing demeanor. “Well, turns out my rat bastard of a friend was a true rat. Helped set the whole thing up. He helped set up a damn massacre. Wasn’t even a real gang issue, they just wanted to get rid of me because of some of the stuff I had learned about while I was on my missions in Iraq. Too bad for them I was the only one to survive the whole massacre. I'll tell ya, kid, Frank Castle _did_ die that day in Central Park with his family. And on that day, The fuckin' Punisher was born. I made it my goddamn life’s goal to rid the world of all the scum that had any hand in that day’s events. Then, once that was done, I figured I’d keep riddin’ the world of any other filth. So, kid, that’s why I have the guns. I _always_ have the guns. Cus you never know when you’re gonna need ‘em, and if you live a life like mine… you’re gonna need ‘em.”

Harry looked at Frank after he finished his story. He thought that was a pretty good reason to carry all those guns, all things considered. Not only that, but the feeling in his chest was growing a little more after listening to Frank’s story.

“Hey Frank, why do you think I feel so funny in my chest when I think about the bad things that people have done to you and me?” Harry asked quietly.

“That’s rage, kiddo. That’s anger. That’s a need for vengeance. Stick with me, I’ll help you sort it all out.”

Harry hummed to himself in thought. Rage, anger, a need for vengeance. Yes, he could definitely get behind those ideals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am obviously messing a bit with the timelines of The Punisher so that it meshes better with the Harry Potter universe, but I don't think it really matters all _that_ much. Feel free to yell at me if you feel super strongly about it not being canon. (Although, if you are reading this story then you probably realize that The Punisher character was nowhere near JK Rowling's books, and therefore probably don't care one bit.)
> 
> Movies Quoted/Referenced:  
> 
> 
>   1. The Karate Kid (1984)
> 



	4. On Listing Enemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry makes a list and learns some truths.

_Rage, anger, a need for vengeance. Yes, he could definitely get behind those ideals._

**\--- September, 1987 (Seven Years Old) ---**

**\--- Little Whinging Library ---**

“Young man, you’re going to need to get ready to go home now,” the old librarian said quietly to Harry as she approached him.

Harry looked at her quickly and then back at Frank… who had faded into the shadows so that he wouldn’t be seen. Harry could still see him just fine, but apparently the librarian couldn’t see Frank anywhere. Honestly, Harry was pretty happy about that because he didn’t want to be the one to explain the huge Marine with tons of weapons on him that looked like he belonged more in an action movie than in a quiet library.

“Yes, ma’am,” Harry replied. He got up off the floor and put Frank’s comic book back on the shelf (making sure to put it in the correct spot with the p’s instead of behind the s’s.) Looking back up at Frank, he gave a small wave. “Thanks for the story, Frank. Do you think it would be ok if I saw you again? I would really like to learn about guns and stuff.”

Frank’s lips curled up into a smirk and he gave a small nod. “I’ll be around, kid. Don’t worry. We’ll get you trained up and ready to take ‘em all on. But, until I see you again, keep out of sight as much as you can. Try not to let anyone take advantage of you. Avoid any fight that you know you can’t win and start to _think_. Think about your life. Think about all of those people who have told you things about yourself, have done things to you that hurt you, and have made your life what it is today. Start a list. You have to start somewhere. We’ll work on getting you stronger so that you can become a better fighter, better strategist. But, until then, start planning.”

Harry doesn’t remember smiling that often in his short life, but he knew he was smiling up at Frank right then. He nodded at the big man and then started to walk out the big library doors. Turning to look back once, he saw Frank watching him leave and he waved. Frank didn’t wave back (that was probably not something menacing Marine fighters do) but he did nod again as Harry left.

**\----------**

**\--- Number 4 Privet Drive ---**

Later that night, as he huddled in his cupboard, Harry thought about all that Frank had said. He started to list the people who had hurt him and started to think hard about some of the things that they said to him or about him. He sat there thinking about Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon and Cousin Dudley, who were all sitting outside Harry’s cupboard watching the telly. He couldn’t hear the program, but it wasn’t like he would know it anyway. He had never been allowed to watch anything on the telly. There they were, enjoying their evening, while he was not even able to get out and go to the restroom. To top it all off, his stomach was growling since he wasn’t able to steal any food before it was binned.

When Harry had come home, they had yelled at him for being gone so long. They said that he should have been there to do his chores and make dinner for them. Harry observed as Uncle Vernon’s face turned a nice shade of violet. 

After being yelled at, he was unceremoniously shoved into his cupboard. The door was slammed and locked. Harry thought that this was probably one of the situations Frank was talking about when he said Harry needed to make a list of the wrong things that were happening to him.

He figured that Frank probably wouldn’t have been cuffed hard upside the head when _he_ came home a little later than normal. In fact, Frank probably would have just hit Uncle Vernon back with his huge leather gloved fist, stopping any other attack. Harry wished he could have done that. It would have saved him from a knot on the back of his head and some new bruises around his arms where Uncle Vernon had grabbed him. Frank probably didn’t even _get_ bruises.

Frank probably would have eaten that night, too. Harry didn’t get to eat at all, but after talking to Frank he realized that he probably _should_ get to eat whenever everyone else did. (In fact, Harry couldn’t quite remember the last time he _had_ eaten a whole meal.) The angry feeling in his chest seemed to grow and grow as he thought about how he had been treated just since he came home from the library.

He didn’t wonder _why_ this was happening to him. The why didn’t matter. No, he wanted to know how to fix it. He wanted to make it so it didn’t happen again. He wanted to be like Frank and make people who had hurt him pay for what they did. He wanted to know all the things that Frank could teach him. He wanted to learn everything that the man knew. (Maybe not the jumping out of planes thing, though. He would not want to leave a perfectly safe airplane while it was flying, he thought. That did not seem so smart – _not_ that he was going to tell that to Frank again.)

While he was laying there, with ample time to listen to his fat relatives snack on crisps and watch the telly, Harry started his list of each person on which he wanted to get revenge. Beginning with his lazy relatives, the whole list wasn’t that long, however it was detailed. Harry wanted to be ready to show all his work to Frank. (Even though it was just a list in his head.)

  1. Uncle Vernon – Mean, Fat (not that him being fat was anything bad, especially if one couldn’t help it, but he figured that Uncle Vernon being fat probably meant that he was lazy – which Harry knew already – and therefore added to the amount of work that Harry had to do on a daily basis. So, yes, ‘fat’ belonged on the ‘reasons list’.) Hits hard with his fists and will choke Harry out if he sees fit to do so. Has really big hands that leave big bruises on his arms and sides. Says bad things about Harry and his mum and dad. (Harry still needed to look into the whole birth parents thing, so he wasn’t quite sure if it was a legitimate reason on the list.)
  2. Aunt Petunia – Ugly (again, not really a reason, but Harry was feeling a little vindictive and wanted to make sure that when he talked to Frank that he explained his horse-faced ugly Aunt. It might make Frank help him plan her revenge a little differently.) Hits really hard with a wooden spoon or sometimes even a frying pan. Yells really loud. Is mean to mum and dad (again, not too sure if this is warranted, needs further investigation.) Encourages Dudley to fight and always takes his side. Makes sure to keep Harry’s never-ending list of chores, well, never-ending. Doesn’t let him eat.
  3. Cousin Dudley – Absolute lazy, sad sod of a boy. Thinks that ‘Harry Hunting’ is a fun game to play with his friends. Has broken Harry's bones quite a few times. Makes Harry do all of his homework. Has two rooms whereas Harry only has the one. (No, Frank said it _wasn’t_ a real room. It wasn’t a real place that people lived.) Blames Harry for everything he does and makes sure that his parents blame Harry too. Tries to get Harry in trouble with his Aunt and Uncle, leading to more hits, more bruises and more chores.
  4. The Teachers at St. Gregory’s Primary School – Ignored Harry’s requests for help of any kind. Believed other kids before they believed anything Harry said. They were very good at turning a blind eye when Harry got hit or punched by the other kids in his year.



Harry pondered his list, wondering if he should add Uncle Vernon’s sister Marge to it. In the end, he decided that he would make her a special sub-section to the family. A horrible person, but not one who was around enough to make his life hard every day. He decided to leave Ripper out of the whole equation. Hurting animals was just not something he thought he could ever do. Even though Ripper _could_ use quite the attitude adjustment.

Happy with himself, now that he had a decent start to his revenge list, Harry turned over on his small cot in the cupboard. He stared at barren walls that he could barely make out in the dark. Thinking about what else Frank had said to him, he started to wonder how he would start looking into information about his parents. His Aunt and Uncle would _obviously_ be no help there. He knew that some of their stuff was left in the house from when he came here as a baby. Aunt Petunia always complained that it was cluttering up her attic, but nothing ever was done about it. Harry wondered why he was never asked to clean the attic of all of his parents’ things if it bothered her that much. With that last thought, Harry closed his eyes, tried to ignore his empty stomach and went to sleep.

**\----------**

The next morning Harry’s stomach woke him well before his Aunt Petunia started yelling. It was probably not even 4am yet. He sat up on his cot, having to hunch down a little bit because, while he was fairly small for his age, the cupboard was still such a tiny place. He looked longingly at the locked door and wished that it would open. He bet that if Frank were there, he would just break down the door with his shoulder and rip it off of its hinges. Harry wished, yet again, that he was more like Frank.

‘ _Think, Harry_ ,’ he said to himself. ‘ _Frank says to think things through. Don’t let them treat you like this. Do something… anything._ ’

Sadly, the only thing that he could think of was how much he wished the stupid cupboard door would open for him so that he could use the restroom and get some food! He put his head down in his hands and thought of all the food in the fridge that he would get if he could get out of the cupboard before Aunt Petunia got up. He could vividly imagine making himself a wonderful sandwich or maybe even a tiny personal fry up. 

As he sat there wishing the lock would open, he heard a little jiggle on the other side of the cupboard door. “Hello?” He whispered, just in case it was Frank coming to save him. He didn’t want to alert his relatives if this _was_ a rescue, after all.

The jiggling stopped and Harry held his breath waiting for it to start again. When nothing happened, he figured he must have been hearing things. He went back to wishing for Frank, wishing for a rescue, wishing for breakfast and wishing for that damn door to open. The jiggling started again. Harry again held his breath and waited, not wanting to say anything just in case that’s why the person stopped last time. He heard the distinct slide of the lock on his cupboard door move to one side and he gingerly reached forward to push it open. 

As it creaked open, he stuck his head out to see just who was there. There hadn’t been any yelling, so he _knew_ it wasn’t one of his relatives. He figured that Frank might be very stealthy, but he probably would have at least answered Harry. But he saw no one. He glanced back into the dark cupboard and then back out into the entry hallway. It wasn’t a dream, but the door _was_ open.

Harry snuck out of the small room and down the dark hallway, waiting to see if this might be a trap to get him in trouble. Quietly, he tiptoed into the kitchen, toward the refrigerator. He figured, if he was going to get in trouble, he might as well get in trouble after getting some food! The refrigerator hummed and the door popped open with a little tug. Light from inside bathed the kitchen and Harry gazed upon all the food that he had to choose from. He needed to be smart about this, so he only took a little from each thing that he did not have to heat up. A little cheese, a little milk. A little leftover meat from the night before. He grabbed a slice of bread from the breadbox and made himself a cold sandwich which was scarfed down in no time.

After finishing his impromptu meal (and having a _much_ happier stomach), Harry stood in the kitchen wondering what had happened to get him out of the cupboard. There was obviously no one in the house, except for his horrible relatives that were still asleep upstairs. And, it obviously was not a rescue, since Frank was nowhere to be found.

Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was actually only 2:30am, nowhere near the 4am that he thought it was. Seeing as he had a bit of time before he was awoken by his horse of an Aunt, he decided to try to access the attic and look for some of his parents’ things. Frank would be proud of how much he was investigating.

He climbed the stairs, taking care to avoid any creaking spots, and opened the attic door as quietly as he could. Gently closing it behind him, he turned on the light and looked around the room. A layer of dust covered almost all of the items, except some of the Christmas decorations that were used every year. He made his way through the boxes of stuff, looking for anything that might have to do with him, or his parents. Back in the corner, behind a stack of boxes labeled ‘Dudley’s Old Toys’, was a steamer trunk with the initials L.J.E. with a small lily emblazoned just above the bronze initial plates. He knew his mum’s name was Lily. This might belong to her!

Slowly, he reached out to the front of the trunk where he assumed a lock would be. He couldn’t see one, but he had to try. As soon as Harry touched the trunk, however, he heard a faint click and the lid popped up. Inside the trunk, resting on the books and items of clothing, was a folded piece of crinkly paper. Harry gingerly took the paper and opened it.

_Dearest Harry,_

_Love, I know that if you are reading this, either you have snuck into the storage and your dad and I will probably have something to say about that, or I am no longer with you. If I am gone, my sweet, sweet boy, please remember that I loved you so. Your father and I loved everything about you, since the day that you were born. You were a light in our life, even though the world was dark. Never forget that you were loved and wanted._

_Make sure that you get all of my potions books from your Uncle Sev, and, of course, please do not let Uncle Padfoot play too many pranks on you. But above all, enjoy life, my sweet Harry. Live every day knowing that you are the light of your father’s and my life. Don’t spend all of the money in your trust at once. You will have a full inheritance, so you do not need to worry about that at all. Make sure to be responsible. – Your father wants me to say to spend a little extra money on some supplies to prank Uncle Padfoot and Uncle Moony. I suggest you think before you start a prank war with them because I have seen first hand how your Uncles can act like children. Of course, I'm sure that by this point you have too. –_

_Anyway, dearest Harry, know that wherever you are and whatever you do, my treasured child, we are so very proud of you and we love you so very, very much._

_Love always,_

_Mum_

Harry’s grip on the crinkled paper grew tighter and tighter the more he read. His mum had loved him. (He wasn't too sure what love was, but Frank said he loved his family so Harry _knew_ it had to be a good thing.) His father had loved him. They _wanted_ him. He wasn’t a nobody to them. He wasn’t a _freak_. He even had other Uncles! He had more family! A family that, it seemed, _LOVED_ him.

His relatives had _lied_ … they had lied about _everything_. Oh, they were going to pay. _Harry_ would make them pay for this. The feeling of anger in his chest grew stronger and stronger. The rage fueled his need for vengeance. Frank would be so proud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the Kudos. Seeing them makes me happy 😊


	5. On a Vengeful Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank helps Harry with his first foray into revenge and then shows him how to disappear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you’ll enjoy this nice long-ish chapter, as I didn’t feel like splitting it into two. 
> 
> Please heed the **_trigger warnings_** in end notes.

_Frank would be so proud._

**\--- September, 1987 (Seven Years Old) ---**

**\--- Number 4 Privet Drive ---**

Harry hadn’t seen Frank in a few days. He had continued to add to his list as he did his chores, avoided being hit, and generally stayed out sight as much as possible. (It didn’t work that well. The fresh bruises on his arms and his tender ribs were proof of that.) As he tended to his Aunt Petunia’s garden, he wished as hard as he could that Frank would show up to continue to tell him about how to get back at all of these people. He wanted to start _now_ , he didn’t want to wait until later. He wanted his relatives, and even on a smaller scale his teachers and school, to pay for what they were doing to him.

He pulled a few more weeds before a feeling as if there were eyes following his every move invaded his thoughts. The hair stood up on the back of his neck, but it didn’t feel quite like he was in danger. It was getting fairly dark outside, and the light from the living room bathed the yard. He listened to the faint noise of the telly inside, where his lazy relatives were currently enjoying their evening. The dim light allowed him to see what plant he was pulling, though. (Heaven forbid he pull a flower instead of a weed, Aunt Petunia would _really_ not like that, and Harry would be the one to pay the price.) Harry raised his head and looked around, trying to find the source of his feeling of being watched. There, in the shadows by the trees stood the dark figure of Frank, imposing as ever.

Harry felt a smile form on his face at the realization that Frank was here! He hadn’t abandoned him! 

Frank walked toward him, observing the work that Harry was doing while shaking his head. “Fuck, kid! What are you doing gardening out here so late, and in the frickin’ cold with no jacket?”

“Well, I don’t really have a jumper of my own. In fact, I’ve never really had my own clothes. Dudley’s old clothes are the only ones I get to use, but I haven’t earned any warm ones for a while. Also, I didn’t finish my chores fast enough today, according to Aunt Petunia, so I have to make up for that by being out here until I’m done with the gardening. But! If I finish the garden fast enough tonight, I might be able to get some dinner for the first time in a couple of days.” He shrugged, wincing slightly when it pulled on his ribs. “I’m hoping I might at least get some of the leftovers.”

Frank narrowed his eyes at the wince then dropped his head and ran one of his hands down his face. “Seriously? That’s… _fuck_... I don’t even know what to say about your whole situation, kid.”

He had learned that his life wasn’t seen as normal to people like Frank, but he still figured that it was better than not living at all. Tilting his head to the side, Harry asked if Frank was going to really help him learn how to get back at people. He had already decided that he wanted to change how he got treated, when he got to eat, and if he got hit or not. He wanted to make it so that he could get some clothes for himself. (Maybe some clothes like Frank had, maybe even some guns. He _really_ liked Frank’s clothes. He would look so cool if he dressed like that, and they looked quite warm compared to a threadbare t-shirt and Dudley’s old castoff jeans.) He was ready for the revenge part to start. He was tired of being treated like this. 

Yes, his life _wasn’t_ normal, like he once thought. It was actually quite _horrible_ , if he really thought about it (like Frank told him to do.) These people had done so much to hurt him already. He was young, but he was smart enough to know that if he let life go on this way the abuse from his relatives _would_ get worse. Right now, though, he couldn’t fight back alone. 

As he spoke about his new resolve and reasons for revenge, he hoped that Frank would be happy with how detailed his list was, how meticulous his descriptions were. He was also very excited to tell Frank about what he had figured out by looking in the attic. He told Frank all about escaping the cupboard (and how weird that was), finding the trunk, and even about his mum’s letter. Harry then showed him the crinkled paper he had been keeping in the pocket of his baggy jeans, the last words he had from his mum.

Frank looked at the paper for a long time without saying a word. His face did not indicate any emotions that Harry could see. So Harry stood there, waiting patiently for something to happen, for Frank to say anything at all.

Keeping his face stoic, Frank took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. “Ok, kid, we have some options here. You have made a real good list. One that, honestly, makes me pissed enough to raze everything and everyone in that house to the ground, but this ain’t about me. This is about you and what _you_ want to have happen here. Nonetheless, I’m proud of you. I’m proud of you for thinking about everything and realizing that you need to have some changes in your life. I’m real satisfied that you’ve realized your life is pretty much shit, and it ain’t your fault at all. For realizin’ _you_ need to take charge.” 

Glancing down at the letter in his hand again, Frank continued, “You see, kid, revenge… revenge is a real personal thing. It’s something that burns inside you, inside your chest. It’s something that makes you want to hurt those who did this to you real bad. To do it by yourself. Not to have someone else do it for you.” Frank sighed and shook his head. “But, shit, kid, this whole situation is just crap. You’re seven _fuckin’_ years old. It’s gonna be a long ass time before you can pull this off by yourself.”

Harry hunched his shoulders and dropped his chin to his chest in defeat. “So, you’re saying I really can’t do anything? All I can do is _think_ about it, about what I want to do to them?” He murmured dejectedly.

“No, that’s not what I’m sayin’. Listen to me, Harry, and listen real good.”

Harry raised his head to look at Frank and give him his whole attention. His large green eyes, behind giant broken glasses, stared unblinkingly at the huge, menacing man in front of him. Twilight framed the man, dressed in all black with his guns, making him seem more intimidating and ominous. (If possible.) If Harry wasn’t already sure that Frank was on his side, he would have probably been quite scared at this point.

The giant military man leaned down to Harry’s level so that he could look him in the eyes. “Do you really want to do this now? Do you want to make them pay for how they have been treating you for your whole life? Or do you want to wait... have me train you up right so you can take your revenge by yourself, later on?” Frank asked slowly and plainly. 

Harry’s disappointment from earlier vanished in a heartbeat. Here was Frank, Harry's new and only friend, offering the chance for true revenge on his relatives. A genuine chance to get them back for all they had done. Whether he wanted vengeance right then, or later on, didn’t seem to matter one bit to Frank. The important thing, it seemed to Harry, was that it _would_ happen, no matter what his choice was. Frank was going to help him either way. Frank was going to follow through on all that he said he would do. 

Harry felt a spike of satisfaction in his chest increase with the knowledge that he could get his tormentors back now. Even though he wasn’t old enough, or capable enough at this age to do it himself, he knew what he wanted. Hands fisted at his side, his fringe fell forward when he gave a small jerk of his head and his green eyes took on a darkened glint.

“Now, I think, I want them to pay now. And…” he took a deep breath, “I want to watch.”

Letting out a small hum, Frank straightened back up and said carefully, “You realize that if this really is going to happen, those people in there,” he pointed to the lit-up living room window, “will be gone. All of them, including your cousin. We’re not going to just hurt them so that they can go on to hurt others later. That’s not how I work, kid. I eliminate. I destroy. Are you sure you want that? Are you sure you can live with that?”

Harry thought about what Frank said for a minute. He thought about his life of being, bullied, hit, hurt, starved, and controlled. His eyes grew darker and his fingernails pierced his skin where he had tightened his fists harder. He glanced down at the blood running out of his small fist and felt… nothing. He watched a drop of blood fall to the ground. Harry knew it _should_ hurt, but he felt no pain. He felt detached from his own body. 

Instead, he focused on the people inside. He thought about how much pleasure his relatives took in demeaning him and lying to him. He considered all the times they loved to hurt him. He contemplated everything that Uncle Vernon had done to hurt him, the bruises he had caused, and the times he thought he might die from being choked. He mulled over all the lies he realized his Aunt Petunia had said to him about his real family. And he finally weighed all the selfishness, the bullying and the broken bones that Cousin Dudley had caused. He thought long and hard if he could handle them being gone forever and having the knowledge that _he_ would have had some part in it. While he considered all of these things, the feelings of rage and anger in his chest grew. He could find no pity for what would happen to these people who had done so many horrible things to him. He felt no remorse over the fact that his relatives would probably not be living in the next thirty minutes. As he deliberated over all of these things, he felt a blissful calm come over his person. 

“I want them gone. I want them all gone, and I want them all gone now.”

Frank nodded slowly and handed the letter he was holding back to Harry. He motioned Harry to be quiet and follow him as he started toward the back door. “Ok, do you have anything inside that you want to keep?”

Harry considered his question for a moment. “Um, I think I would like to get whatever I can from that trunk that had my mum’s letter in it. I don’t want to lose the only thing I have of hers.”

Tilting his head slightly in understanding, Frank stopped at the door. “Alright, I want you to stay out of sight as much as you possibly can once we get inside. Make your way quickly up to the attic and place what you want to save into a pillowcase or knapsack, if you have one. Once you’re done with that, come back and meet me in the living room. I’ll go in, but I won’t let them know I’m there until you come back down. You won’t need to worry about them by that point, I’ll take care of everything.”

“And I’ll get to watch?” Harry asked tentatively.

“Yeah, kid, I won’t take that from you. You’ll get to watch.”

Harry felt excitement coursing through him at the prospect of getting to exact his revenge on his relatives. He didn’t mind that _Frank_ was the one actually pulling the trigger. The main thing was that Harry was _there_. He was actually there to watch it all happen. 

Quietly opening the door, Frank gestured for Harry to precede him into the house. Harry tiptoed past the living room, holding his breath and hoping beyond hope that no one would see him. Luck, it seemed, was on his side as he made it to the stairs and was able to sneak upstairs to the attic. His Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin were totally engrossed in whatever show was on the telly.

As he was climbing the stairs, he glanced over to where Frank stood in the shadows by the door. The man had removed one of his guns from the holster in his thigh, leaving the ones in his suspenders still under his leather trench coat. His face was blank of emotion as he observed Harry’s relatives enjoy their show. He turned to look at Harry and gave a small gesture for him to continue up the stairs.

Harry climbed the stairs as quickly and stealthily as possible. He grabbed a pillowcase from the linen closet and went into the attic to gather anything he thought he might want to keep from his mum’s trunk. There was a small black book filled with recipes (but with fake or gross ingredients) and weird words. But it was in her writing, so he wanted to keep it. He kept a pretty carved stick that seemed to make his fingers tingle when he picked it up, and he kept some other odds and ends he could fit into the pillowcase. Looking at his treasures, he nodded in satisfaction. That would have to do.

Back downstairs, Harry was quickly spotted by his Uncle Vernon before he could even make it over to where Frank was hiding in the shadows.

“BOY! What are you doing over there?!? Have you finished your chores yet? I hope that you aren’t getting any of your freakish filth all over your Aunt’s nice clean floors!” Dudley snickered from his spot on the couch and Aunt Petunia turned her beady eyes on him with a scornful glare.

Uncle Vernon’s face had started to turn red the moment he saw Harry, and continued into a violent shade of purple by the time he had finished yelling. He began to rise from the couch and move toward where Harry was standing. Harry froze in fear, gripping the pillowcase tightly, like a lifeline. Before he could even take one step to run, however, a distinct click was heard in the room. It was loud enough to even be heard over the sounds on the telly. Harry hadn’t heard the sound of Frank’s boots moving at all, but he had bloody well heard the cocking of the gun.

Aunt Petunia gasped and turned to the noise while Uncle Vernon visibly bristled. Dudley squeaked and huddled near his parents to save him. Uncle Vernon turned to face the back door, where the sound had come from, only to come face to face with the barrel of a gun. (Harry would later learn it was a Kimber Warrior, one of Frank’s favorite sidearms that he had used while he was still in the military and then when he became The Punisher. Harry would enjoy using it and training with it, but would ultimately choose the Smith & Wesson M&P45 as _his_ weapon of choice. He wanted to be like Frank, but he wanted to make sure he had his _own_ signature weapons, too.) 

“Who the _BLOODY HELL_ are you???” Uncle Vernon shouted. Harry thought that if Uncle Vernon's face could possibly get more purple, it would have at that moment. As it was, he figured his face couldn’t get any darker in rage.

“Shut up.” Frank said quietly, in his deep, gravely voice. “Sit the fuck back down, you awful man, and shut the fuck up.”

“NOW, JUST YOU SEE HERE…” Uncle Vernon began shouting again, only to be quickly silenced by Frank cold-cocking him upside the head. 

“No, _you_ see here. Shut up... Sit down. You’re not in charge here anymore,” Frank growled.

Aunt Petunia let out a shrill scream and Dudley promptly curled further down into the corner of the couch, trying to make his fat body seem as small as possible so Frank wouldn’t notice him. Harry chuckled to himself… he _knew_ Frank had noticed him already, he was just paying more attention to his Aunt and Uncle right then.

Uncle Vernon collapsed down on himself from the hit and stumbled to the floor. He hadn’t lost consciousness, but Harry could tell that his Uncle's head probably felt like _he_ felt that one time Aunt Petunia was actually able to make contact with a frying pan to the back of his head. Frank pointed his gun at the man again, motioning him to move over to the couch with the rest of Harry’s relatives. Slowly, Uncle Vernon rose and started moving, wobbling a little, while holding the side of his head where he had been hit. Harry hoped it hurt. He hoped it hurt _real_ bad.

Aunt Petunia and Dudley were quietly sobbing over on the couch while Uncle Vernon, who had finally joined them, was still blustering in anger and pain. Frank didn’t seem to care one bit about any of it. He held his gun on them while turning to face Harry. “Hey kid, this is your show. You're in charge. Who’s goin' first?”

Harry considered his relatives, who were beginning to grasp the direness of their current situation. How could he make this hurt the worst for them? What would make them see that _he_ was finally the one who was going to get them back for everything they had done?

“What do you _MEAN_ the _BOY’S_ in charge???” Uncle Vernon shouted, clearly forgetting the gigantic and menacing Marine who was currently holding them hostage. “That _FREAK_ isn’t fit to be in charge of a bloody dustbin! He's pure filth!”

Frank snarled at him to shut up again then turned his attention back to Harry. Aunt Petunia gasped and a whimpering Dudley lost control of his bladder. Harry snickered at the sight. 

“Well, kid?”

“Dudley.” Harry said, finally. “He should go first, and his parents should have to watch. After all, he’s so perfect and lovely. They should get to watch how their _wonderful_ little Dudders pays for all the times that he hurt me.”

Aunt Petunia cried out then, grabbing Dudley by the shoulders and pulling him close. (Completely disregarding the fact that Dudders was covered in urine. Harry thought that was quite disgusting of her.) “NO! Not my angel! Not my precious baby!! He has done nothing wrong! You leave him alone, you _freak_! Just like your mum and dad… filth! Not good enough to breathe the same air as us. Your mum was a tramp and who knows who your dad was, you evil bastard child! You leave us alone!!!”

Harry dropped the pillowcase at his Aunt’s words. His heart clenched in anger and his hands balled into tiny fists. His mum was not filth! She was NOT a tramp. Oh, Aunt Petunia would pay… yes, Frank would make _sure_ that Aunt Petunia paid. And it would start with her losing her 'angelic' Dudley.

Frank watched the emotions pass over Harry’s face until they finally settled on determination. Harry nodded at Frank and said, “I want to do it. I want you to help me do it.”

Studying Harry for a moment, Frank gave a small sign of affirmation and motioned him over to where the gun was being held on Harry’s relatives. Uncle Vernon tried to rise from the couch again, presumably to attempt to fight off Frank (a completely ridiculous notion, Harry thought,) but he was quickly stopped as the gun swung back into his face and was pressed against his forehead. 

“Fuckin’ move again, fat man, and you’ll be whistlin’ through your forehead,” Frank sneered.

Uncle Vernon gulped in visible fear while trying to maintain an unaffected air in front of the man known as The Punisher. (He didn't succeed, in Harry's opinion.) Aunt Petunia whimpered, still holding tightly to her dearest Dudders. And Dudley, much to the joy of Harry, had turned a sickly green and looked quite like he was going to pass out.

“Come over ’ere, Harry,” Frank ordered quietly. 

Harry obediently walked over to where Frank stood with his sidearm still pointed at Uncle Vernon's head. He stood just next to Frank’s arm, glaring over at his relatives. Frank took his hand while he lowered himself to one knee so that he could line himself up with Harry’s height. (Although, even with this concession to Harry’s size, Frank was still _way_ bigger and taller.) The Marine scooted the boy’s body to position him correctly in order to handle the weapon. Gently grabbing Harry’s hand, Frank guided it to the handle of the gun and helped Harry aim at his Cousin Dudley's chest. Harry’s hand shook a little while he held the weapon with Frank, but the strength of the man behind him, both calming and even, helped hold the gun steady for the both of them. 

Aunt Petunia had dissolved even more into tears, inconsolable at this point. Uncle Vernon still maintained that the two of them were freaks who were going to be in so much trouble once he reported this! And Dudley, at whom the weapon was currently aimed, was nearing a catatonic state of fear.

“Ok, Harry, remember to always assume any weapon you are holding is loaded. Luckily for us, and quite unluckily for them, this one _is_ loaded. Keep your eyes open, breathe... press the trigger,” Frank said quietly into Harry’s ear. 

Harry grinned and let his gaze follow the aim down the barrel that Frank had established. His tiny finger tried to press back on the trigger, finding it was a lot harder to do than he thought. He felt Frank’s finger slide in next to his and then the gun went off, surprising both Harry and his Aunt and Uncle. Harry jumped a little with the shock of the recoil, but he soon settled back to look at his (and Frank’s) work. He was sure the shot had probably surprised Dudley too, but he couldn’t ask his Cousin anything now, seeing as there was a hole with blood blossoming out of it in the middle of his chest. 

Dudley’s dead eyes remained open in shock. His face a grotesque mask of fear, staring blankly back at Harry and Frank. Well, Harry assumed it was fear since Dudley wasn't saying otherwise. His Aunt’s eyes, however, were squeezed shut in horror. Uncle Vernon was yelling and trying to climb over Aunt Petunia to where his son was bleeding out all over the couch and down on the floor. And Harry... Harry just smiled at whole the picture they made.

Frank congratulated him by patting him lightly on the head. “Good job, kid. Nice, for your first shot. I’m real proud.” 

Harry beamed up at him.

By this point, Aunt Petunia’s wails could probably be heard down the block, and Uncle Vernon was yelling so loudly that his face was almost beyond purple. Frank glanced at them and rose to a standing position again. He placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder and said, “Well, kid, we need to wrap this up and disappear. I know you wanted to make them suffer, but I think that you probably got that whole point across.”

Harry nodded. He couldn’t even begin to wipe the grin off his face as he replied, “That’s ok, Frank, you’ll make it good. I know you will.”

Frank smirked down at him and acknowledged the sentiment as truth. Harry trusted Frank, who turned back to the distraught parents and said, “Don’t worry about your kid. You’ll see him soon.” He raised his weapon once more and shot two quick shots into a bawling Aunt Petunia – one in her forehead and one in her heart - effectively silencing her cries. Turning back to Harry he said, “That’s called a ‘double tap’, just to make sure they’re good 'n gone. We didn’t do that with the little fat cousin of yours, but I knew he was dead when he went down, so it didn’t really matter.”

Harry inclined his head sagely. Frank was so wise. He would learn so much by staying with him.

Uncle Vernon’s face had completely lost its purple hue. Instead, it was now completely ashen as he took in the carnage that Frank and Harry had inflicted on his family. He looked down at his son and wife, both bleeding out on the couch, and then back at Harry. “You have taken everything from me, _boy_. You’re just a horrible little _freak_. We should have killed you when they dropped you off at our doorstep. _You_ should have been the one who died instead,” he mumbled, clearly in shock.

Frank snorted. “Harry didn’t take anything from you, you fat fuck. You’ve taken _everything_ from him, and he’s finally fighting back.” With that said, Frank quickly shot another four shots from his gun: one in each of Uncle Vernon’s knees so that he fell forward onto the ground, one in his forehead so his eyes glazed over, and one in his heart - to finish the whole set. Harry giggled to himself, thinking that Frank was undoubtedly a pretty good shot because Uncle Vernon probably didn’t even _have_ a heart.

Frank dropped the empty magazine from his weapon, stowing it away in an ammo pouch on his belt, and quickly replaced it with a full one. He looked over at Harry and said, “Remember to count your rounds, kid. Never let yourself go into or away from a fight without having a weapon loaded and ready.”

“I’m going to learn a lot from you, aren’t I Mr. Frank?” Harry asked giddily.

Giving Harry a slight shove and motioning him to pick up the dropped pillowcase of his mum’s treasures, Frank grunted. “I told you not to call me that, kid. But, come on, it’s time to disappear. That’s another thing to remember: infiltrate in quietly… destroy everything… leave quickly with no trace of yourself left behind. No point in stickin' around to get caught.”

Gently grabbing Harry’s hand, Frank steered them both to the back door and out into the garden.

“Where will we go now?” Harry asked, excited to escape and so very, very happy to be free.

“You ever been to New York?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel I should be a responsible human being here and give people possible trigger warnings.
> 
>  **Trigger Warnings** : gun violence, murder, murder of a minor _(by a minor)_ , slight gore.
> 
> Also, thanks again for the lovely Kudos.


	6. Interlude (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into some of the repercussions of the disappearance of one small, ordinary boy, late one night, from an ordinary house on Privet Drive, Little Whinging.

Mrs. Arabella Doreen Figg lived a quiet, ordinary existence, in her opinion. Her life consisted of keeping her cats (wonderful creatures, cross-bred with kneazles) happy and healthy. Her favorite hobbies included breeding her delightful cats, taking photographs of these cats to keep for display around her house, and frankly… just focusing on her cats. They really _were_ quite lovely creatures. 

Mrs. Figg figured that she had earned her lifestyle, having worked for the Order of the Phoenix in the first Wizarding War. She may have just been a _squib_ , but she did her part! Even the esteemed Headmaster Albus Dumbledore was so pleased with her work that he gave her this most important special tasking. One, she could happily say, that fit in well with her current desire to live out a peaceful life in the muggle world.

She followed the same routine every day, enjoying the simplicity of her life after the war. Waking up early every morning, she looked out her kitchen window that had a decent view of Wisteria Walk, where her house was located, close to Privet Drive in Little Whinging. She would gaze out to see the happenings of the neighborhood, and maybe, if she timed it right, see a small boy running to his primary school, attempting to make it on time. She would smile to herself with the knowledge that the little boy was doing just fine, then she would turn to focus back on her precious cats. Yes, life was quite simple and perfect. She was doing her duty, according to Headmaster Dumbledore. She was ensuring that the little boy lived a normal, ordinary life.

As part of her appointed duty, Mrs. Figg watched over the young Harry Potter, the Chosen One, the Boy Who Lived, the Savior of the Wizarding World. (A very prestigious task, if you asked her.) She was very proud of herself for a job well done. Reporting regularly to Headmaster Dumbledore about the status of the little boy, she took the responsibility very seriously. 

She even had the boy over to her house to stay when his muggle relatives were unable to watch him. He always looked a little disheveled with his dirty face, too large filthy clothes and broken glasses, but she always assumed that was just a small boy being a small boy. Headmaster Dumbledore, when Mrs. Figg brought young Harry’s general appearance up to him in one report, assured her that in no way was this out of the ordinary for small muggle children to look like this. He told her not to worry one bit. It was simply a child being a child. Mrs. Figg nodded at the wise wizard, figuring he would be the one who knew best. After all, he was the one who put Harry into that house, and Headmaster Dumbledore would _never_ do anything to hurt their Savior.

Late one evening, after the sun had set and the dinner dishes for herself and her beloved cats had been taken care of, Mrs. Figg sat down to watch a little telly with Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty. Suddenly, over the noise of the show, she heard a commotion coming from outside. Unused to anything out of the ordinary happening in Little Whinging, she immediately went to the window to look if she could see what was going on. There in the road were four panda cars with their blue lights flashing and what looked like at least ten constables milling about in front of a house. Her heart dropped. That was a house Mrs. Figg recognized _immediately_. 

Quickly grabbing her housecoat and a proper headscarf, she bustled out the door and down the street to the house of one Harry Potter and his relatives. She _had_ to find out what was going on; she needed to be able to explain this all to Headmaster Dumbledore! One of the constables stopped her from getting beyond the yellow line surrounding the home. 

“Sorry, ma’am, crime scene investigation in progress. No one allowed past this line,” the muggle constable (who really couldn’t have been more than twenty or twenty-one years old) told her, then turned to look back at the comings and goings from the house. At this point the ambulance had come and they were bringing in the gurneys to deal with those inside.

Mrs. Figg nodded, fidgeting her fingers in her coat. “Is everyone ok, though? Are the children ok?”

The constable stopped staring at the medical personnel who were entering the house and turned back to face her. “What do you mean, _children_?”

The dread in her chest grew as she told the constable about the respectable family that lived in number 4 Privet Drive and how there were _two_ little boys who lived there. She said that, yes, one was a nephew, but they were a normal family of four seemingly ordinary people.

The constable wrote her information on his notepad, along with everything that she could tell him regarding the family. 

“You never told me if both of the children were ok,” Mrs. Figg whispered before the constable could leave. She knew the truth, but she needed to hear it with her own ears before she could pass it on to Headmaster Dumbledore, and through him… to the rest of the wizarding world.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I cannot tell you about an ongoing investigation…”

As he was speaking, the medical personnel began to bring out gurneys with body bags on them. Mrs. Figg noticed a _very_ large body bag, one that was obviously for the uncle. A second one followed out. It had to belong to the aunt as it was adult sized. The third, and last gurney to come out of the home held a smaller body bag, one for a child. Her breath hitched as she hoped to Merlin that it was not who she thought it was. But, upon inspection as the gurney passed by, there was _no_ way that the body of tiny Harry Potter was in that body bag. It was way too large.

The constable told her gently, but firmly, that she needed to vacate the premises so that the investigation could continue. There would be news later on, but she needed to let the constables do their job. 

Relieved that young Harry was not one of those in a body bag, but still very worried about the state of the young Chosen One, Mrs. Figg started back to her home on Wisteria Walk at a quick pace. If the constable had no idea that there were two boys living in that home, just where did Harry Potter go? She needed to inform Headmaster Dumbledore of this situation _immediately_.

**\----------**

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Order of Merlin (First Class), Grand Sorcerer, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, _and_ Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot sat regally in his chair, observing two of his most trusted staff. Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration Professor and his head of Gryffindor House, and Severus Snape, Potions Professor and his head of Slytherin House, occupied two stiff-backed chairs in front of his ancient wooden desk. They were in his office to bring forth some issues regarding an inconsequential fight where spells were fired between a few of the students in their houses. (Just children being children, really.) 

The Headmaster knew (of course) that the Slytherin students were in the wrong. But in fairness, he supposed he _should_ listen to both sides. (After all, Albus Dumbledore is known, if he is known for anything – besides being the strongest wizard of his time, wielder of the Elder Wand and the defeater of the Dark Lord Gellert Grindelwald – of course, for being both impartial _and_ fair) So he would sit there and listen patiently, his eyes twinkling madly as they both fought valiantly for their charges, before he told Severus that the Slytherin students would need to serve a week’s detention with Argus Filch.

While the two professors were discussing (read: arguing loudly about which student had fired the first curse in the hallway) the current situation, his floo suddenly flamed to life, surprising all occupants of the office as it was quite late for any visitors – especially ones in the Headmaster’s office. Dumbledore rose from his chair and walked over to the fireplace, only to see Mrs. Arabella Figg’s face pop through.

“Headmaster!” She cried, obviously distraught over some small thing. 

She was always going on about how the subject of her surveillance was potentially being mistreated – honestly, that woman. He already knew what was going on there, thank you very much. He was Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfr… well… he knew all his honorifics. To imagine that he did not know what was going on in a situation regarding the Chosen One would be tantamount to ridiculous. Needless to say, he was not surprised that she was in distress, merely annoyed that she chose to pop through when there were witnesses. Both Minerva and Severus had stopped their argument and now gave their whole attention to the conversation in the floo.

Sighing in frustration, Dumbledore asked, “What is the matter, Arabella?”

“Oh, Headmaster! Headmaster, it’s simply horrible! It’s just awful! Those muggles, those poor muggles… they’re…” she exclaimed, tapering off with a shudder. Arabella brought her trembling hand to her mouth in worry. She dropped her voice to a whisper, “Albus, they’re _dead_. Murdered. All of them... dead.”

A gasp from Minerva sounded behind him while he could hear Severus stand and join him near the fireplace. Hand fisted at his side, out of sight of his two professors, Dumbledore felt a spike of frustration and dread at having to deal with the fallout of this new situation.

Now, Albus Dumbledore was a smart man. One could not get to his station in life without knowing how to turn certain bad situations to his favor. Obviously, something bad had happened at the house that their Savior was currently residing, but he could work with this. He could find some way to twist this into his favor. He would need to be quick to think about his response to this situation.

“Calm yourself, Arabella. Come through and tell me all that happened,” he said, motioning her to step into his office through the floo. He made sure to keep his face kind and open and add an extra twinkle to his eye, just to help calm those in the office. He couldn’t let anyone see that this had potential to be very bad for him and his plans.

Arabella leaned away from the floo, disappearing for a moment, then she stepped through into his office, wearing her housecoat and a mussed head scarf. Obviously, the woman was not expecting to see anyone this evening. Glancing at the two other professors in the Headmaster’s office and quickly disregarding their presence, she began the tale of her evening’s events. Finally, after all of the details had been told and reiterated, due to having to explain some of the muggle terminology to both Dumbledore and Minerva, the questions and accusations finally started flying. 

“I _TOLD_ you, Albus! I told you that those were the _worst_ kind of muggles! We should have never allowed him to stay with them!” Minerva exclaimed.

Dumbledore glanced at her over the top of his half-moon glasses, twinkling eyes dimming. “Minerva, this was not their fault. They are clearly the victims here. Them and our poor Savior. They were a good family to Harry. They obviously loved the boy if they sacrificed themselves for him. Just like his parents.” He hummed quietly in contemplation before continuing. 

He could definitely use this angle. They could use this as yet another sacrifice for the child. Yes, that boy would be the most loved and cherished hero of the wizarding world. If his whole family would sacrifice themselves for his safety, then he would be easily be guilted into fighting for the light's cause. After all, his parent's were firmly for the light. (Or so that's what the wizarding world believed.) Harry would become so malleable, able to be formed into an impressionable child who was needed to win this war against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Dumbledore knew that Voldemort had not been truly vanquished that evening at the Potters' home. (How could he have been? He wasn't even there.) He was still out there, building forces and biding his time to attack. Yes, yes, this plan just might work. Now he just needed to find the blasted boy before the whole wizarding world figured out that he was missing. It would put a major crimp in his plans if the boy had gone and gotten himself killed.

“We must ensure that this news does not get out to the public. There are those who want to hurt him who would do anything to find out his location. We absolutely cannot let the any Death Eaters or dark wizards know that Harry is not behind the safety of the wards. We need to focus on finding the boy, wherever he is, and bringing him back safe and sound. He is probably scared and needs a helping, guiding hand to bring him into the way of the light,” Dumbledore said gravely.

“You told me he was safe! You told me he was in a _loving and caring_ home where they were teaching him all about his future. I cannot believe you sent him to that house! Had I known that all those years ago I would have fought you more over his guardianship. He _should_ have been in the wizarding world from the beginning, Albus,” Severus growled slightly. “I would have taken him in after Lily and James died. You know we didn't show it to the outside world for political reasons, but I was their friend. I wanted to keep him with me; I told you that. Her sister hated her and all that she had in her life. I can only imagine how they hated that little boy. And if it couldn’t have been me that got to be his guardian, hell, I know that even Black or Lupin would have been a better choice for his guardian… and for me to admit that is saying something, especially after what Black did.” (Not that Black did anything wrong, but Severus wasn't supposed to know that.)

“Now, Severus, you know the boy needed to be with family. You had your job to do here and for the Order. We could not have you stretched too thin, my boy. You know that the with the threat of the return of Voldemort we needed young Harry to be behind the blood wards provided by his family’s love. And Mr. Black made his choice, albeit a poor one, and he is still paying for that choice. Not to mention that the wizarding world would never accept a werewolf as the guardian to the Chosen One. Not only that, he disappeared that night too. We must be smart about our next moves. Yes, we need to focus on finding the boy, but we must not alert the dark that anything has changed with young Harry's situation. As far as everyone knows, we must maintain that he is being held in a secret location, getting the love and attention that he needs before he comes into the wizarding world to take his rightful place as a hero,” Dumbledore said in an attempt to placate Severus and to stop Minerva from any more angry outbursts.

Severus sniffed disdainfully and turned to walk from the room. “Say what you will, Albus, but Lily’s boy is missing and I’m not _stretched too thin_ to go find him without your help, and bring him back with me.” With that said, he swirled his robes and stalked out of the office, leaving Mrs. Figg and Minerva staring after him in shock. 

Dumbledore ground his teeth together before turning to the women who were left standing there, wringing their hands in distress. He would need to get Severus in hand quickly, but for now, he needed to focus on Minerva and Arabella.

“Ladies, we will continue on as nothing has happened. Only Severus, the two of you, and I knew of the location of the young Savior. We _must_ keep it under wraps that he has gone missing. The wizarding world could potentially dissolve into a panic. We must keep a brave face and maintain that he is safe and sound. I will work my contacts and I’m sure that Severus will also look into anything from the Death Eaters that could point to what happened. We will solve this little mystery. I’m sure it is just a small misunderstanding. It will all be solved in no time,” Dumbledore coaxed, smiling with an extra twinkle added to his eyes. He inserted just a push of magic with his statement so that the ladies would feel more comfortable with his words.

Minerva glanced at him disbelievingly until the small push of magic brought her face to a calm acceptance. “Of course, Albus. That would be best.”

Arabella nodded in acquiescence. “Yes, Headmaster. I’ll make sure to keep watch in the neighborhood and let you know of any changes.”

“Wonderful, ladies!” Dumbledore clapped his hands and gave a small smile and nod. “This is merely a hiccough in our little world. Everything will be fine in no time. Off you two go.” He gestured for Arabella to leave through the floo and for Minerva to exit out the door. “Oh, and Minerva?”

She turned back to face him at his question. “Yes?”

“The Gryffindors did nothing wrong in my eyes. Let Severus know that the Slytherins have two week’s detention with Mr. Filch.”


	7. Interlude (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Further repercussions of the disappearance of one small, ordinary boy, late one night, from an ordinary house on Privet Drive, Little Whinging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the end of my holiday weekend, so happy end of holidays to you too... you get two chapters today.

**\-- _Six Years Ago (Give or Take a Few Weeks)_ \--**

_Just past midnight on the morning of November 1st, 1981, a knock sounded at the door of the rooms of one Severus Snape, potions master and professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Opening the door, Severus came face to face with the Headmaster, who, even with his garish purple robes with stars and moons covering them, looked like he had aged a decade in one night._

_“Severus, my boy, I have some very grave and unsettling news,” Dumbledore said, pausing to take his glasses off and close his eyes in grief. “Godric's Hollow has been attacked.” He took in a deep breath before continuing, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry to say that both James and Lily are no longer with us. They were cut down mercilessly in their home this evening.”_

_Severus kept his dour face blank of anything that could be construed as an emotion, but inside his heart dropped. Lily! Who could have possibly done this? They were at war, yes, but he assumed that the Potters were protected in their home. They were under fidelus. No one should have been able to find them, let alone get into their house to kill them! Only close friends knew where they were, and Severus knew that those individuals would never betray them. The Potters were a magically powerful gray family working within the light. He knew that they had started to see some issues within the Order, but they were still working with them, biding their time before they made any enemies within Dumbledore’s ranks. And, after the prophecy had come to light about their boy being the one that would be the downfall of the dark side, they had done everything that they could to protect their child. _

_If anything, they were trying to figure out ways that they could circumvent the prophecy. To avoid any conflict that their child might have to engage in later on in his young life. They were more neutral now than they had been toward the beginning of the war, and they were even beginning to lean toward the dark after researching the ideals of both sides. Severus knew that Dumbledore hadn’t known about their potential defection just yet. They were still trying to get Lupin and Black to see that it would be beneficial, for Harry’s sake, to side with Voldemort so that Harry might be saved. Severus was endeavoring to get them to see that this was the best choice for them and their family, but it was a delicate balance. He was, after all, a spy for both the dark and the light._

_Voldemort knew about the Potters’ suspicions and wavering beliefs. He would have never killed them. He wanted them on his side. After all, what better way to avoid being killed by a child of prophecy than to bring the child over to your side along with his family?_

_All of these thoughts brought Severus back to the initial question: who could have possibly killed his friends? (Ok, he was more friends with Lily than James, but he never would have wished the man dead!)_

_“What happened?” He whispered._

_“Voldemort, my dear boy.” (Severus scoffed internally, not believing that for a moment.) “The evil that man and all dark wizards personify happened this evening. As far as we have been able to find out, he found out part of the prophecy that Harry would be the one to bring about his downfall and went about finding someone to infiltrate in close to them.” (Severus again sneered to himself. Voldemort already knew the prophecy and was working to sway the Potters from having to lose their child for some senseless prediction of a washed-up divination professor. He had known it from the very beginning when Severus told him. Why would he do anything about it now?) “Young Mr. Black turned against his friends and went to the dark, following his mother and father and brother. He is currently on the run, but we should hopefully have him in custody soon,” Albus stated in apparent dismay._

_“Yes, Severus, the worst possible thing we could have imagined happened. Where we thought the family safe from the Death Eaters and Voldemort in the confines of their home. With their friends, they were actually in the midst of a traitor all this time. The darkest of magic was done in the Potters’ house tonight, and ultimately, they paid the direst price. Unforgivables were cast upon them, and then, when they could go on no more, they were both shot with the killing curse.”_

_Severus let emotion finally show through his stoic demeanor at this statement, while Albus paused again, replacing his half-moon glasses on his face. Severus noticed that for the first time in a long time there was no visible twinkle in the man’s eyes as he gazed back at the Headmaster._

_He felt a pressing tingle at the front of his mind and immediately slammed down his occlumency shields. Not knowing why the Headmaster wanted into his mind put him on immediate edge. Keeping his face blank of any further emotion, he asked, “What about their boy? What about Harry?”_

_“Ah, yes, it seems that our young Harry is exceptionally powerful despite being so young. He was able to shield himself while his mother and father fought off the evil forces invading their home. As far as we can tell, when Voldemort went to kill Harry and negate the other side of the prophecy, Harry’s magic intervened, and Voldemort was caught in the backlash. He disappeared from the home in apparent defeat. We have not heard if he survived the encounter, but our hopes are high that young Harry was able to vanquish him,” Albus said sagely, the twinkle in his eye growing. “The light took a terrible loss this evening, but we have also won a battle against one of the worst Dark Lords in wizarding history. This is a huge boon, my boy. We will be able to look back on this evening with joy in later years, remembering how young Harry was responsible for bringing about the downfall of Voldemort.”_

_Severus’ mouth gaped slightly at the words ‘look back on this evening with joy’. He would never be able to consider this evening a joyous occasion. He just lost his best friend. Her family. And the dark had taken a huge hit if their leader had really been vanquished. No, this was not a ‘joyous occasion’. “But where is he? Where is Harry? Was he harmed in any way? I want to see him. Lily and James wanted me to help raise him if anything happened to them. I need to see the boy to make sure everything is all right.”_

_Severus might not believe one word that the Headmaster was saying about the events of the evening, but the outcome was probably true. Lily and James probably were dead, at whose hand he did not know, but that could be figured out later. Right now, he needed to find Lily’s child, to protect him just as he, along with Black and Lupin, had promised to do when he was born._

_“Harry is now the proud bearer of a failed curse scar on his forehead,” Dumbledore smiled, eyes extra twinkly. (Severus hated him a little more right then, because of that smile.) “He is fine, Severus, I checked him out myself,” he continued smugly, “It was too dangerous for him to be seen by the public right now. There is too much turmoil in the wizarding world. So, I have moved him to a safe place, a wonderful home. Only Minerva and I know the location, and she has been sworn to secrecy. The fewer people who know where he is being raised, the better. He will be loved. He will be cherished. He will know of his family, and when the time is right, he will come back into the public light so that people may see their hero. But, until then, he is safe. You need not worry, my boy, I have taken care of everything.”_

_Jaw clenched in anger, Severus did the only thing he could in this situation, he nodded and bid the Headmaster goodnight. Turning to his floo, he called out to Malfoy Manor. He would need to get to the bottom of some of the lingering questions that he had over this whole situation. Never let it be said that Severus Snape took anything at face value, especially when he knew that his Lord was supposedly out of the country on a diplomatic mission. And Black? Well he had to be with Lupin – it was after all the full moon. No one would believe that Black would leave Lupin alone during one of his moon runs to betray one of his best friends. (Especially with Potter stuck behind fidelus wards, unable to join in.) Yes, there were way too many questions for Severus’ liking, and he didn’t trust the Headmaster’s answers to them one bit!_

**\----------**

Severus Snape was angry. As he stalked away from the Headmaster’s office and back down to his quarters in the dungeons, he realized that he was more furious than he had ever been in his twenty-seven years of life.

Yes, he had been livid when Lily and James died in their home seven years ago. Being told that their deaths were Voldemort’s fault made him even more incensed. He _knew_ Voldemort didn’t have anything to do with their deaths! Severus had been a spy for both sides for too long to be blind to the true nature of people. While Voldemort may have some different ideals than the current wizarding world, he in _no way_ caused the death of one Lily and James Potter. Of that, Severus could be sure. If anything, he would have ensured their safety if he could. 

Sure, the fact that Severus had not been given the chance to give their son a stable life after his parents were gone made his heart clench in rage toward the bumbling old goat currently up in the office, but he had been told that Harry was safe. He had been assured that his home was impenetrable to anything that could happen to the boy. He had been told that Harry was _flourishing_ where he was. That he was loved. That he was happy. That he was living the best life anyone could ever dream to live.

Flooing immediately over to Malfoy Manor, Severus prowled down the hall to where the ballroom doors were closed due to a meeting. Pushing them open without thought or regard to what was occurring within, he walked straight in to see the Dark Lord holding court with some of the inner circle of Death Eaters. Voldemort raised his hand to get the conversation to quiet, giving his whole attention to Severus.

“What is it, Severus? I had not planned on receiving a report from you for a few more days, yet.” 

Severus sketched a quick bow before saying, “My Lord, I have just learned the most distressing news.”

Lord Voldemort sat up straight in his chair (read: throne. The man really was quite arrogant, but Severus figured he deserved it with how powerful he was.) and motioned for him to continue.

“Harry Potter is missing. While we have been searching for him these past six years, he has been residing in the muggle world with his relatives, Lily Potter’s sister and her family. My Lord, they are the most horrible type of muggle, akin to those you and I encountered when we were… younger.” 

Severus could see Voldemort’s red eyes narrow and his mouth turn to a deep frown with this revelation. Neither one of them had been loved or cared for by any muggle when they were growing up. It was one of the things that they could very much relate to with each other. To have the knowledge that young Harry Potter might have endured anything close to what they had themselves endured was angering and also heartbreaking. Severus had promised that Harry would be taken care of. He had given his word.

“Do you know the events of the disappearance?” Voldemort asked after a moment. He and his Death Eaters had been quietly searching for the Potter child since his disappearance from the wizarding world with no luck. Either he had been behind a very strong fidelus charm or he had been moved to an area where no one would think to look. Obviously, it had been the latter.

Severus recounted all that Mrs. Figg had told them in the Headmaster’s office. He explained that there were three bodies in body bags. She did not see the persons inside the body bags; however, she was adamant that the smaller child-size body bag did not contain the body of one Harry Potter. She mentioned that it was too large for it to be him.

After describing the evening’s events in detail, Severus stood quietly, waiting for instruction from his Lord. 

Voldemort looked around at his inner circle members and then back at Severus. “I trust that I do not need to say or do anything to _stress_ that this must remain quiet. Anyone who needs a reminder of what happens when someone goes against what I ask, please let me know and I will be most happy to remind them. As it is, you are all dismissed. We will reconvene to discuss this new development and any plans regarding it at a later time. Severus, please stay.”

Severus stood patiently with his hands clasped behind his back as the rest of the inner circle of Death Eaters rose and left the room. When the last one had exited and the doors were closed, his gaze met the red eyes of the Dark Lord.

“I am sorry, Severus. I know how much this must be hurting you right now,” Voldemort said compassionately. “I would like you to go to this family’s house in disguise and see if you are able to find out any more information than the squib was able to give. Take as long as you like for this mission, Severus. You are one of my favored and I know how much the boy meant to you. Would that I could, I would have saved the whole family all those years ago.”

Severus inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement. “Yes, my Lord, I will do as you ask. If it is at all possible, I would like to attempt to contact Black and Lupin, and appraise them of the situation as well.”

Voldemort waived one hand in acceptance. “Of course, you may. I have them up near the werewolf pack run by Fenrir, however I am sure that they will be most grateful if you were to inform them of this development, as disturbing as it is. I know they would want to be informed. They may even be able to help you from their location with any news of where the young child has gone.”

Nodding in understanding, Severus gave the Dark Lord a small bow and left the manor. He had a crime scene to investigate.

**\----------**

Upon arriving at number 4 Privet Drive, a heavily disguised and disillusioned Severus Snape walked inside the front door. The putrid smell of human decomposition and iron of blood hit his nose immediately. He looked around the darkened interior, seeing no immediate threat. Raising his wand, he cast a non-verbal _lumos_ and walked further inside. He passed by a small cupboard with a lock on it that looked like it was opened quite frequently. As he walked, he looked around the house for signs of the family that had lived there. He saw the pictures on the wall, the spoiling food on the counter, and the dirty dishes left for someone, who would never show up, to come clean them.

Even more than just looking around for information on how the family lived, he looked for signs of Harry. He found none. No pictures. No clothes. No toys. No room, even. Where did Harry live, if he truly did live here? He circled back and opened the cupboard, only to notice the small cot and little home that had been made for someone who was obviously small enough to fit inside. Rage filled Severus as he took in the sight. Harry lived in a cupboard. Dumbledore had put _Lily’s child_ in a house where he was forced to live in a cupboard.

Standing up from his perusal of Harry's cupboard, he moved on to the rest of the home. Once he got to the living room, he stopped. On the couch were giant bloodstains from an obvious fight. It did not seem that it was a magical fight, as Severus could find no magical trace when he scanned the room. This puzzled him. Who would want to take Harry Potter, if not a wizard? He stepped closer to the couch and saw that near the urine and blood stain was a large hole in the couch. Next to that, in another two blood stains, were two other large holes. Severus felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

This wasn’t the work of wizards. This was a muggle. This was a muggle with a muggle weapon who had taken the Savior of the Wizarding World, probably without even knowing it. The suspect pool was immediately blown to bits. He had no clue who would come into this house and murder these people. (Although at this point, seeing that cupboard and knowing what he knew about Petunia, he would have probably murdered them himself.) The Dark Lord was going to be very frustrated with this news. _He_ was very frustrated with this news. Black and Lupin might actually shit kittens – or wolves, or whatever. And Dumbledore? Well, he was the unknown factor.

This situation had shitstorm written all over it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and kudos. I'm happy that y'all are enjoying my little crazy story here, at least a little bit.


	8. On Getting Back to ‘Normal’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank brings Harry to his first ~~hideout~~ home in New York. Harry meets some new ~~acquaintances~~ potential targets to practice his training on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the Kudos and comments. I put any **trigger warnings** and additional notes at the end of the chapter.

_"You ever been to New York?"_

**\---1987 (Seven Years Old)---**

**\--- Somewhere in New York ---**

Harry _loved_ New York. It was big. It was loud. It was busy. No one stared at him or made fun of him as they walked along the streets. (That might have something to do with the fact that Frank was the type of guy who made everyone move around him. They might be scared. He did look a little scary, even without his whole ‘black leather/guns getup’.) 

He wasn’t sure how Frank had gotten the people at customs to accept that he was Frank’s son, let alone allow him to leave the country with him, seeing as they had really only known each other for a week when they left London. He also wasn’t quite sure why Frank was being called Mr. Carbone and he was being called Henry, but he kept mum about it. It must be yet another cool name that Frank got to have. Hopefully he’d get some other cool names soon, too.

_“Always make contacts wherever you go, kid. Remember that you can pretty much pay anyone for anything you need. And, you never know when you’ll need someone to dig you out of a hole, pick you up if you’re stranded, offer an extra gun in a fight or even forge a few papers for a child you intend to illegally take overseas to save them from a bad home life,” Frank advised him gruffly._

_Harry kind of considered that last situation to be very specific and probably only pertaining to this circumstance. But, it was good to know, nevertheless._

Frank must have known a lot of people who could help. Harry didn’t have much (read: any) experience with airplanes, but he knew that they should be full of people all traveling together. The airplane that Frank and he were in just had the two of them, with Frank piloting. Frank said that it was because the people in the airport didn’t like his luggage. Harry thought the black duffle bags looked fine, maybe a little dirty. Perhaps the dirt was a big issue.

The first thing that Frank did after getting them both off the plane in New York was get Harry a slice of the most wonderful pizza that he had ever had in his whole seven years on this earth. Of course, he had never _had_ pizza before. (“Jesus Christ, kid, that’s a cryin’ fuckin’ shame and we’re gonna rectify that as soon as we hit ground in the city. Everyone should know what a real slice tastes like.”)

After food, clothes shopping (ones that actually fit… and were new!), food shopping (apparently Frank hadn’t been to this home for a while), the two of them made their way to a house in a place Frank called Hell’s Kitchen. Harry noticed, after they reached the ‘house’ that they had not seemed to walk in direct route to get there. They had circled back some blocks a few times and gone past the house only to finally return. He brought this to Frank’s attention and was praised for recognizing that they had done what Frank called ‘evasive maneuvers’.

_“Always assume people are following you. You never know who’s got eyes on you, and make sure you’re always aware of the eyes in the sky,” Frank warned lowly as they went down a few alleyways and over a couple short walls._

_“Eyes in the sky?”_

_Frank pointed subtly at a camera attached to one of the traffic lights in the intersection they had stopped at. “If that can see you, see your face, then anyone can see you and your face. Both ‘good guys’ and the bad guys can see you and where you’re going. Stay anonymous, kid. Keep your head turned away from the camera. Stay out of sight. Stay in the shadows as best you can.”_

_Harry nodded. He was learning so much!_

As Harry had reached up to help open the door, Frank grabbed his arm and pulled him back, a little more forcefully than he had ever done before. It was not nearly as hard as his Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia would do, but it did cause a small spike of trepidation to creep into his head. Was he going to be treated the same with Frank? But, no, of course there was an explanation.

_“Stop!” Frank ordered abruptly. “Never touch a door or try to open something without inspecting it first. Make sure there are no wires or suicide traps.”_

_He pointed to a thin wire coming out of the doorknob that went into the doorframe of the house. Disengaging that, he proceeded to undo a few other traps that he had set on the door, then he keyed a code into his phone and Harry heard three deadbolts unlock on the other side. “I’ll get you your own burner so that you can have the codes.”_

_“Burner?”_

_“Phone, kid, one that no one can trace.”_

_“Cool.”_

_Wow, Frank sure knew how to be safe!_

Frank gave a tour of the house (it wasn’t that big) and the places that he didn’t want Harry to get into. (Frank’s gun safe was _huge_. Harry couldn’t wait until he was allowed to go in there.) He showed Harry where knives were stowed all over the house for protection, mumbling something about being just as bad as the Winter Soldier. Harry didn’t know who that was, but he sounded cool if he liked knives. (“Only use these after I show you how to hold them and how to use them properly. If you don’t know what you’re doing, you’re more likely to hurt yourself than the person you’re trying to hurt.”) Harry also got his own burner phone. (It would sometimes shock him when he picked it up. Frank said that was weird, but it didn't seem to affect the phone, so they both shrugged it off.)

They settled into an easy routine. Harry would attend school. (“You’re going to go to regular school, Harry. You’re gonna get book smart while you get street smart. You can’t go through your life without learnin’ everything you can from anyone who will teach you.”) Frank would pick him up every day, when he wasn't on a job, usually dressed in his boots, jeans and a t-shirt with a regular leather jacket. He almost always wore a hat and sunglasses. Harry thought that he still looked pretty intimidating to others in normal clothes.

Frank would take small jobs that would come his way. A tip here, a call late at night there. ‘Wetwork Specialist’ he sarcastically called himself when Harry asked what his jobs were. He never hid anything from Harry, though. He never assumed that Harry was too young to understand what was going on. He would explain each job and the reasons behind taking it to Harry. (“Scum needs to die, kid. If you don’t kill it, it’ll breed more scum. Right now, I’m workin’ close to home so you can get some stability, but I’m never gonna lie to you about what I do.”)

Sometimes, Frank would have to be gone overnight and Harry would get to stay with Frank’s (occasional) friend Matt Murdock, or as Frank called him, 'Red'. He didn't really understand why he was called Red, it wasn't like he had red hair or anything. His cane wasn't even red. But, Harry liked Matt. They played hide and seek a lot. (Matt was _real_ good at finding him, even though he was _blind_.) Frank said that it was a good way to learn how to ‘regulate his breathing’ and ‘practice situational awareness’. Harry just thought it was fun.

Matt would always try to tell Frank that Harry should have a better, more normal childhood. He seemed very frustrated that the paperwork showing that Harry was Frank’s son passed through the legal system. Harry felt bad enough, after hearing them fight, that he explained to Matt one evening that this _was_ ‘more normal’ for him. After his explanation about his old family, Matt let up on Frank for a while. That made Harry pretty happy because he hated when people weren’t nice to Frank.

**\----------**

**\---1988 (Eight Years Old)---**

**\--- New York Safehouse Number ? ---**

For his eighth birthday, Frank had gotten him a set of CRKT Provoke ‘Earth’ knives. Harry about wet himself with excitement. First, he had never had a real birthday present before, and second, he had been practicing with Frank’s old Gerbers and a few Benchmade Autocrats that he had surplus. But these knives were _his_. (The guns were still off limits, except for learning the disassembling, reassembling, and cleaning under supervision. And, of course, learning all the different names.)

He already had the techniques of knife fighting started. Frank would take him through his paces whenever they had down time on the weekend or when it looked like Harry had too much energy. Harry had a _lot_ of energy. He had enough to work on the martial arts, knife fighting, shadow boxing and whatever else Frank came up with to train him. Matt would even box with him sometimes. (He was quite good for a blind guy.) Harry loved it all.

But mostly, he was loving his new knives. He loved the curve of the blade, the fact that he could open it with one hand (which meant that he could open two at a time.) The only thing he wished was that he could stab something that wasn’t a giant punching bag. He wanted a real target. He hadn’t stabbed Frank yet during one of their training fights, but Frank said that if Harry was able to stab him at eight years old, then he was going to hang up his guns and retire. Harry considered this quite dramatic but said nothing.

One day, before the summer was over, Frank and Harry walked into their home to see a figure in a hooded sweatshirt and jeans, with his tennis shoes propped up on their coffee table, beer in his hand. Frank didn’t even blink. ("Shoot first, ask questions later.") Before the man had a chance to react, Frank had dropped the groceries he was carrying, pushed Harry behind him, quickly drawn his gun and shot the man twice. (Harry figured that not only was Frank probably really mad that someone broke in, but he was mad about the fact that the man had put his feet up on the coffee table. Harry wasn’t allowed to do that either.) The beer in the man’s hand dropped and his body went immediately slack on the chair. Blood bloomed out the front of his chest and there was a decent sized hole where Frank had shot the side of his head. Harry was pretty sure he saw a bit of scalp imbedded in the back of their recliner.

“Fuck!” Growled Frank. “You just had to come over and fuckin’ break in. Couldn’t send a message or call like a regular motherfucker. No, just had to make me ruin a perfectly good chair with a couple 'a bullet holes.”

Frank had never talked to the dead around Harry before, so he was a little unnerved about this new development. However, much to Harry’s surprise, the man in the chair did a little shimmy side to side, shook his head once, and stretched his arms. He tilted his head down to look at his sweater and then looked over at where Frank and Harry still stood, Frank with his gun still aimed in his general direction.

“Castle! And mini-Castle! I’ve heard such good things. The author tells me that you are doing so well on your training and soon you’ll get to use those guns you've been dreaming about,” the man gushed as he stood up, apparently not injured at all from a gunshot through the head and chest.

Harry looked at him with his mouth agape, looked up at Frank, and then back to where the man stood, seemingly unaffected by the whole situation. “What the hell is he talking about, Frank? And _why_ isn’t he dead??” Harry whispered.

“Awwww, the Mini Punisher swears. You must be so proud, Frankie boy,” the man crooned as he walked closer to the pair.

Frank growled low in his throat, causing the man to stop and raise his hands in a sign of surrender. "Aw, come on, Castle, you know I'm just playing around."

Frank looked down at Harry and gestured with the gun in his hand to the not-so-dead man standing in the living room. “Harry, meet Wade, or Deadpool, as most people call him. Ugly ass motherfucker. Annoying as shit. But, fairly hard to kill, so, pretty decent in a fight.”

Deadpool gave them both a short bow, "Merc with a Mouth at your service, Pint-Sized Punisher."

Harry looked over at Wade, who had pulled his hood back a little. His face was covered in scars (and blood) and he looked kinda like he had fallen in some acid or something. (Or maybe burned. He had been studying the pictures that Frank would show him so that he could determine what caused people’s injuries and deaths.) “Wow! You’ve got a lot of scars!” Harry exclaimed. “Frank has tons too, but his are all over and not all the same. I have some on my back from where Uncle Vernon would hit me with a belt, and I have the one on my forehead, but yours are _way_ cooler!”

Wade looked at him in shock while Frank snorted. “Yep, way cooler, kid. Come on, let’s get these groceries put away and you can hear all about Wade’s tragic backstory while I have a beer and you have a snack.”

Harry loved Wade. He loved that Wade would let him do things that Frank wouldn’t. The one time that Wade _was_ allowed to babysit for a couple days, Harry _finally_ got to stab someone. Of course, he stabbed Wade, but still. Wade seemed pretty cool about it. Frank… not so much. After a little more explaining, though, Frank finally acquiesced to Harry training with Wade, and he even got him a couple of short katanas so that Wade could teach him with those.

Harry loved being eight. It was probably his best year so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger warnings:** mild-ish gore (really mild), light stabbing, training of a child soldier, gun violence, and finally… Deadpool – who probably deserves his own trigger warning section.
> 
> I should also note that I mention the Winter Soldier in this chapter in passing. I realize that according to canon during this time the Winter Soldier is considered the ghost assassin and has not been brought in by Captain America. So, he would still be out there doing his assassin stuff. That's pretty much the point. The Punisher, in all his wetwork jobs, black ops and general destruction would have, at some point, come across the name and description of the Winter Solider. Also, I am totally destroying the MCU canon anyway, so... yeah.
> 
> There were cellphones in 1987 and 1988, but they would not have been used for text messaging. They could have been used to send codes through a series of numbers. There was a type of networking written message that could be sent, but it was not standard. If Wade had sent a message it probably would have been through a code, dead drop, or common contact.


	9. On Learning Proper First Aid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry learns the fine art of ~~torture~~ first aid and gets bothered by…owls?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long-ish chapter for you all. Enjoy, but please heed the **trigger warnings** in end of chapter notes.

_Harry loved being eight. It was probably his best year so far._

**\--- 1990 (Ten Years Old) ---**

**\--- Safehouse in Hell's Kitchen ---**

By the time that Harry had turned ten years old, Frank and he had moved at least four times (not counting the weeks, or sometimes months, in the summers when they would check on Frank’s other hideouts out of state. Travelling with Frank was fun, though, so Harry enjoyed those trips. He did wonder, at first, why they had a different car each time they went anywhere, but Frank just ended up showing him proper hot-wiring techniques and told him that it was safer to keep people guessing what you were driving. Also, he explained that one should always have a burner car… just like their phones!) 

Some places they stayed were nicer than others. Some were pretty bare, with just a couple beds, a couch and other sparse, worn furniture. Harry didn’t mind either type of home. When it came down to it, they were vastly improved living spaces to living in a cupboard under the stairs. And Frank was there with him, so that made everything better in Harry’s eyes. They stuck near the Hell’s Kitchen neighborhood at first, so that Harry could stay in one school district, but as he grew older, they moved further out into New York and the surrounding areas.

_“Never stay in one place too long. That way, you can keep your safe houses without having to compromise their locations. You can come back to them, if they’re still good to use, but if you stay too long there’s the risk you’ll be found out. And if that happens, then you’ll have to burn the location.”_

_“Not literally, of course,” Harry snorted._

_Frank just gazed at him flatly._

_“Oookay, maybe literally.”_

_“Sometimes. Remember, you never leave them any proof that you were ever there. A big fire or some explosives work pretty well in that regard,” Frank said brusquely._

_Harry nodded thinking that it might be fun to actually have to explode one of their previous locations. He would have to ask Frank if one of them had been compromised so that he could help out._

One of Harry’s favorite hideouts (that he wasn’t even _allowed_ to visit until this year) was the one with Frank’s ‘Baby Gitmo’ in the basement. 

_“Baby what?” Harry asked when Frank pointed out the room in the basement._

_“Guantanamo Bay, kid, also called Gitmo. Military prison in Cuba. Did some… interrogations there. This is my own smaller version,” Frank explained._

_“Why the long pause before ‘interrogation’?”_

_“They might have been slightly… under duress. I’ll show you my methods sometime soon. You’ll see.”_

He loved inspecting the room and exploring all the items that Frank used in his work. The lone chair in the middle of the room, bolted to the floor, had confused him the first time he saw it. Frank quickly explained how much easier it is to deal with someone who had nothing around them to pay attention to, except for the other person in the room with them doing the interrogating, and, of course, maybe some interrogation tools. It made the person feel scared and weak, and weak people were more likely to give up information quicker.

One thing that Harry did not like was when Frank would come back from long missions all beat up and bleeding. He didn’t mind a few visible bruises, as that came with the territory. Hell, Harry even got bruises and small injuries from all of his training. But sometimes Frank would try to sneak in late at night, injured and delirious from blood loss. (Silly to assume that he could sneak in, really. He had taught Harry _way_ too well to allow anyone to breach their security without him knowing it, no matter if that person _did_ have the codes.) He would be clutching his side or his shoulder, bloody with a pained expression on his face. No, Harry did not like when this happened. 

Frank would go to a ‘night clinic’ or see Sister Maggie. (If he was forced to.) That did not seem like very legitimate healthcare, in Harry’s opinion. (“You pay for their silence, kid, not necessarily their cleanliness or ability.”) He would get bandaged up and come back to whatever place they were calling home so that he could recuperate for a couple days. The really bad times could mean that he was down for a week or so. No, Harry _really_ didn’t like Frank being hurt like this at all. Watching Frank be injured made him feel so useless because he couldn’t do anything to help out.

Finally realizing that Harry needed to have more education on injuries and how to deal with them, Frank decided to give him some legitimate training. Finding a willing body to help out with Harry’s training was, well, easy.

**\----------**

“Come on, Harry,” Frank ordered one evening, coming up from the basement. 

Harry was sitting there cleaning and sharpening his knives, organizing them by size, weight and ease of access in a fight. ("See, sharpening my knives," Harry said with a smirk. "Wax on, wax off, Mr. Frank" - Wade had _finally_ shown him the Karate Kid. "Shut up, kid.") He turned and started to rise to follow Frank, but was stopped by him saying, “Bring the knives, kid. You’re gonna want ‘em.” 

Grinning at the prospect of using his knives for real, Harry grabbed them off the coffee table and followed Frank down into Baby Gitmo. 

He was greeted with the sight of a man sitting in the chair in the middle of the room with a clear tarp laid out beneath him. The man was stripped down to his boxer shorts, shivering and sweating in his seat. A rope was tied across his chest around the back of the chair, keeping his back straight. His legs were tied with rope that was looped through the eyebolts on the ground. His hands were wrenched behind his back, secured with zip ties. (“Always carry zip ties, kid. Best handcuffs you can use in a hurry. They don’t add much weight to your gear and it’s a bitch to fight to get out of them, if you don’t have somethin’ to ‘em cut that is.”) In the man’s mouth there was a gag, muffling the whimpering cries he was producing. There was a bandana around the man’s eyes so that he couldn’t see anything in the room, and his ears were covered with a large set of headphones. (“Sensory deprivation. Makes ‘em freak when they have no idea what’s gonna happen next.” “Huh. Sounds smart.” “Yep, use whatever you can to help you with ‘interrogation’ techniques.”)

“Okay, kid, now this here is one of the enforcers for the Gnucci family. They’ve been runnin’ a human trafficking ring down on the docks, so this shit-stain has very kindly ‘volunteered’ to help with your first aid training. I’ve seen how frustrated you’ve been gettin’ with not bein’ able to help if I get hurt bad. I don’t want you to feel like that anymore, and I figure it’s about time you learn how to properly… interrogate someone anyways,” Frank stated dispassionately. “So, we can go about this one of two ways: _you_ can do the work _and_ fix the injuries, or _I_ can do the work and _you_ can fix the injuries. Either way, you’re not leavin’ this room until you know how to do proper field first aid.”

Harry hummed quietly, considering the man in the chair for a moment. He’d already caused a few knife injuries on Wade. Of course, those were ones that weren’t too big (and a couple that _were_ big that Frank didn’t know about yet) but he’d never done anything to someone he didn’t know. 

But Frank was there to ensure that everything would be fine. He stood in the room, arms crossed, quiet and imposing as ever, studying the situation in a completely nonjudgmental manner. Looking at Harry calmly, eyes never wavering from his face, he waited for an answer. And Harry, well, even after living with Frank all this time, he couldn’t really read what he was thinking behind that steady gaze. 

Harry knew it was totally his choice if he wanted to further his training onto working on actual victims. He deliberated if he was ready while looking between Frank and the man one more time. 

Harry looked back at him once more with a lift of his brow in question. Frank gave a minute nod.

He was acknowledging that this was ok. He wouldn’t have brought him down here if it wasn’t. He was declaring that Harry was ready, if he wanted to be. He was saying that working this man over was a good way to begin. And, if Frank said that this guy deserved it, then he probably _really_ deserved it.

“You to tell me what to do. I wanna do it myself, Frank,” Harry stated with determination.

With that stubborn statement from his protégé, Frank nodded with a proud glint in his eye and went to grab the first aid kit from the corner. (It was the kind of kit that would put any paramedic to shame.)

“Okay, first we’ll work on cuts and suturing. You’ll use your knives so that you can get the feel of breaking the skin and how much pressure needs to be applied for certain depths. I want you to do a couple of cuts in the guy’s arm. One shallow, one medium, and one down to the bone. I also want you to do a straight stab down into his thigh. Got it?” Frank instructed curtly while he retrieved the suturing kits from inside the bag. He handed Harry a pair of surgical gloves to protect him from getting the man’s blood all over his hands. 

“Now normally, if you were in a safehouse, you would try to make things as sterile as possible. All of the cuts and injuries would be cleaned with iodine or alcohol. But, down here, I don’t think this guy is _really_ gonna care if we keep things sterile or not. Let’s just say that him getting an infection is probably the _last_ of his worries,” Frank stated wryly, and Harry let out a small giggle.

Frank watched with a detached air as Harry cut the man in the chair three times on the arm and stabbed him deep in the thigh. There were a few false starts when Harry couldn’t quite press hard enough to make the cuts deep enough, but he persevered. The man jerked every time the knife met his skin and groaned in pain through his gag. Harry could see beads of sweat fall from the man’s temples and tracks of tears streaming from behind the mask. Neither Harry nor Frank cared. The only thing that Harry felt was a small inkling of fascination when the blood began to well under his knife, but he remained focused on his task.

After the cuts had been made, Frank described each one and the level of severity if one were to get them on a mission. He explained that the first cut merely needed to be taped together and maybe a small bandage, if there was time to stop and take care of it. The second one would need some butterfly tape, wound glue and a bandage. And the last one, the worst one where Harry could actually see the humerus inside the man’s arm, that one would need legitimate stitches and a bandage. Also, depending on how bad it was and the location of the cut, if one was in the field, a tourniquet might need to be applied. The stab in the thigh was inspected and Harry was informed that it could potentially hurt like a ‘son of a bitch’, but a bandage and a couple stitches should be just fine to treat it. And that probably didn’t even need to happen until after the mission was over and they were back at a safehouse.

Harry performed all of the actions to each of the cuts and even learned how to use a portion of a bandage as a tourniquet. The man in the chair was blubbering in pain, but other two in the room just ignored him. Looking at the cuts to survey his work, Harry nodded in satisfaction. Frank patted him on the shoulder for a job well done. 

Harry beamed up at Frank, filled with pride.

They worked on shoulder and knee dislocations next. For that, Harry worked the man’s shoulder over, then popped it back in. He did this for both shoulders so that he could feel the difference. (Or so Frank said.) He twisted the legs and popped the kneecaps out and then followed Frank’s instructions on how to adjust them back as best he could. 

Using the arm that had not been cut, Harry twisted the wrist until it broke and then learned splinting. He broke the fingers on both of the hands so that he could see how each one would be splinted. Well, after the first hand he knew how it worked well enough, but he was having fun, so Frank indulged him.

“Okay, next, we’ll work on bullet wounds. Now, we wear Kevlar where we can, but it won’t cover everything. My logo on my chest, just like yours will eventually be, is there to draw fire to the most protected area on my body. But that doesn’t always work. You need to know how to plug a hole, dig a bullet out, and apply a clotting bandage if needed. You ready?” Frank asked brusquely. “I’ll talk you through it, but I want you to work fast since speed is always of the essence when someone is bleeding out.”

Harry nodded that he was ready and took the Kimber from Frank’s hands. At this point the man in the chair was slumped forward, head hanging down toward his chest, still conscious but in obvious pain from having a few medical procedures performed without the aid of any painkillers. 

“Shoot him in the shoulder, the kneecap, and the stomach. You’re working on shooting right now, as well, so make the shots count and make ‘em quick, just like you would in the field.”

And Harry shot. He was a good shot by this point. He was pretty proud of that fact. From the look on Frank’s usually stoic face, he was pretty proud too.

The man in the chair screamed through the gag as the bullets hit and blood began to drip from the hole in his shoulder. The hole in his stomach was producing a small stream of blood that kept stuttering to a stop when the man’s abdomen clenched, then it would start again. His kneecap was the worst visible carnage. There was nothing left of the actual kneecap, only a hole through the leg. Harry quite liked Frank’s gun.

With Frank’s guidance, Harry first tended to the gunshot to the stomach, applying pressure and stopping the flow of blood. He took the provided tweezers and dug out the slug then applied a clotting bandage and wrapped the wound. He removed the shot from the shoulder and bandaged and wrapped that, then moved to bandaging where the man’s knee used to be. 

By now, the man’s blood had pooled in large puddles beneath the chair and the smell of urine, from where he had let his bladder go, filled the room. Harry wrinkled his nose in disgust that he was unable to hold it in.

Frank held up a hand and motioned Harry away from where he was working. He walked up to the man and removed the headphones to whisper into the man’s ear. Harry couldn’t make out the words, but the man whimpered again through his gag and nodded. Frank removed the gag from his mouth and the man started spouting a litany of Italian words. Harry had no clue what he was saying but Frank seemed to understand as he was responding in Italian himself. Finally, the man had no more words and just sat there, pale, shaking and reeking of sweat, urine and blood.

Frank looked up at Harry and motioned him back over. “Well, we got what we needed, and I think you learned quite a bit.” 

Harry nodded.

“Now, we need to finish this. You never start a job unless you intend to follow it through, understand?” 

Harry nodded again in understanding. “How are we going to finish it?”

“You mean how are _you_ going to finish it, don’t you?” Frank asked shrewdly, narrowing his eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what I meant.”

Frank brought his finger and thumb to his chin in consideration, looking at the man in the chair who had finally passed out from pain. “So, you can use your knives, or I’ll let you use my gun. Your choice.” 

Frank said this while looking at Harry, but it seemed that he already knew what Harry was going to choose, since he was setting the gun aside on the bench. He snorted quietly when Harry immediately grabbed his knife and gave Frank a feral smile, full of teeth. 

“Yeah, kid, that’s what I thought.”

That night Harry learned the beauty of a well-executed Colombian necktie. They wrapped the body and set it aside for Frank to dispose of later. The room was cleaned from top to bottom and any evidence of their visitor was either burned, dropped in a landfill or (in the case of the man’s tongue) delivered to the Gnucci family. He was, after all, a snitch. They’d be pretty happy that he was taken care of.

Closing up the basement, Frank stopped and gripped Harry’s shoulder, looking at him evenly. “You did real well, kid. You made me real proud.”

Soaking up the praise, Harry grinned at Frank. Then he stopped again on the stairs, “Hey Frank? Can I learn Italian too?”

Frank ruffled Harry’s hair and snorted, giving him a small smirk. “Sure, kid, I’ll teach ya all the languages I know.”

When the night was done and the weapons were clean, Harry sat on his bed contemplating all he had learned. He would be able to help Frank now with any major injuries. He was so proud of his new knowledge. 

More than that, however, he was proud that he had done well in Frank’s eyes.

**\----------**

**\--- 1991 (Almost Eleven Years Old) ---**

**\--- Kuwait City, Kuwait ---**

From his sniper nest on the top of a crumbling building in Kuwait, Harry watched through his scope as Frank infiltrated a building below that held some compromising files some of the Marines who fought in Desert Storm needed. He was thrilled to be along for the mission, even though he wasn’t allowed to actually be down in any of the fighting. To be trusted to have Frank’s back was enough. 

He waited for anything to happen that would show that something was going wrong, but Frank was more than competent. Nothing was going to happen. Still, being there at all was plenty for him.

As he lay there, assessing the situation below, he felt a niggling sensation at the back of his neck. He turned slightly, keeping his aim steady, only to see a… was that an owl? In the daylight? In the middle of Kuwait? 

It was an owl! It seemed to be carrying some sort of envelope. And it was headed right toward Harry’s sniper nest. He watched with blatant interest as it flew closer and closer, eventually landing right next to him. It seemed exhausted, as if it had traveled very far. It regally (can owls even be regal?) lifted its leg and presented Harry with the envelope. 

Thoroughly confused at this point, Harry cautiously reached out with his gloved hand to grab the envelope from the owl’s grasp. (“Never touch anything that could potentially carry poison or some other such agent, kid. Always check for anything that could kill you.”) The letter didn’t look like it was going to hurt him. In fact, as he turned it over to read the front, he was shocked. It was addressed… to him!

_Mr. H. Potter_

_Sniper’s Nest Atop Building 1304_

_Amgarah Industrial Area_

_Kuwait City, Kuwait_

____

____

What… the… _fuck_...

Frank was going to _flip his shit_ when he saw this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warnings** : Torture (kind of graphic and performed by a minor), gore, knife and gun violence, minor medical procedures. If that is triggering, then please skip 1990 and go straight to 1991.
> 
> Movie Quote from:  
> 
> 
>   1. The Karate Kid (1984)
> 



	10. On… Magic?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry discovers magic, meets a Doctor, grows up a little, and takes a weird walk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the lovely kudos and support of this silly little tale. Y'all make me smile. (Also, even fictional teenagers are moody)

_Frank was going to_ flip his shit _when he saw this._

**\--- 1991 (Eleven Years Old) ---**

**\--- New York, Sanctum Sanctorum ---**

Harry had been right. Frank freaked out. He thought that he had seen Frank angry before, when they were interrogating a snitch or taking out someone who was working with the mob or involved in some other criminal activity, but he was so very, very wrong. Apparently, no one messes with Frank Castle’s family. (Because, even though the papers were forged, Frank considered _Harry_ family. It was such a novel idea to have someone consider _him_ important enough to fight for.)

The first thing they did was leave Kuwait as quickly as possible. (After blowing up a building or two, much to the enjoyment of Harry.) Heading back to New York, they considered what the letter could mean for the both of them.

_“Why would I get a letter (delivered by an owl, no less) from some school for witches and wizards, Frank?” Harry asked in a slight panic._

_“No clue, kid. Never heard of the place, and I’ve heard of some pretty freaky ass shit,” Frank replied, rubbing his temple in frustration._

_“And how did they know where I was? I mean the letter was addressed to exactly where my sniper nest was! We staked that out for days and no one knew we were in country except for Wade. Wait, do you think that he did this??” _

_Harry’s panic was beginning to reach epic levels the more he thought about the absurdity of being delivered a letter on top of a building during a classified op. By an OWL!!!_

_“If he did… I’ll kill him, wait for him to come back to life, let you kill him, and then we can rinse and repeat until we both feel better,” Frank grumbled in annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose._

_Harry snickered at the thought of killing Wade over and over. “You always come up with the best plans, sensei. You say, I do, no questions.”_

_Frank groaned. “I should have never let you see that goddamn movie.”_

_Harry giggled and ducked away from Frank's ineffective attempt to cuff him on his head._

It wasn’t Wade. It wasn’t Red, or anyone else in Hell’s Kitchen. It wasn’t _anyone_ they knew. Frank checked with all his sources, leaning on all of his contacts while trying to find out who could have known their location. Or what the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry even was. Everything regarding the school came up blank. The magic angle however… well, Frank did have a few sources who could help with that.

Finally, it was Professor X who pointed them in the direction of one Dr. Stephen Strange. He was, after all, the Sorcerer Supreme and dealt with all things magical on earth and in the universe. (Or some such bullshit, according to Frank.)

_“Sorry, I have what?” Harry coughed out incredulously._

_“Natural magic, young man,” Dr. Strange stated drolly as he performed some tests(?), swirling his arms about and forming sparkling shapes in front of Harry. “You’re one of the rare humans who was born with it, and not mutated. You don’t appear to have the X gene at all.”_

_Harry furrowed his brow in confusion and Frank just facepalmed. This was a clusterfuck._

_“Of course, you’ll need to learn how to wield your magic safely and hone your talents. However, from what I can tell, you’ll be very powerful once you’re trained.”_

_Harry stood there dumbfounded. He glanced over at Frank, who didn’t seem to be taking this any better, judging by the giant scowl on his face._

_“But I fight with guns… and knives. I know jack shit about magic.”_

_“Ah, lovely. I can see that our Mr. Castle has had a wonderful influence on you and your vocabulary.” He glared over at Frank who simply flipped him a rude gesture. _

_“Well, whether you know jack shit about it or not,” He said sarcastically, “you will need to learn. You need to get trained correctly. The likelihood of you causing damage to yourself and others increases the more you wait.”_

_Harry looked down at his boots in dejection. “Would I have to leave Frank?”_

_“Nah, kid,” Frank interjected quickly as he glared balefully at Dr. Strange, “he’ll get ya trained, but I’ll still be around. You’ve still got work to do with me. After all, we have to make sure you stay on top of your other skills. Don’t worry, you’re not gonna get rid of me that easily.”_

_Leaning over, he placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder and squeezed gently. One side of Frank's mouth curled into a small smile. “You’re my kid. I stole ya fair and square. Forged the papers and everything, remember?” He gruffly whispered in Harry’s ear. It helped Harry calm down immensely._

_“Okay,” Harry nodded at Dr. Strange, “I’ll train with you.”_

_Dr. Strange’s eyes bored into him, making him feel like an insect under a microscope. “I expect full cooperation, full commitment. This is not something to be taken lightly. You will work long and hard, however the benefits will far outweigh the cost. But heed this warning, young man, I will accept no disrespect or slacking off. I do not have time to waste on children who do not follow simple direction.”_

_Nodding again, Harry smirked and said impishly, “You say, I do, no questions.”_

_Frank snorted._

**\----------**

**\--- 1991-1996 (Growing Up) ---**

**\--- New York, the USA, & the World ---**

Dr. Strange was a hard taskmaster. He focused on having Harry pull energy from outside sources to build his magical core. Harry learned to use conjured weapons as well as his physical ones. He had to admit that he still preferred the physical ones. (There was something so soothing about repetitively sharpening a knife or calmly cleaning a weapon after a kill.) But, he listened to all that Dr. Strange said and learned all he could about using his magic to better himself as a fighter.

While he was training up in both magic and martial arts, combat and weaponry, Wade kept calling Harry The Mini-Punisher. However, through his training and growth spurts, he finally got too big for that title. (Thank god he didn’t have any lasting issues from his crappy upbringing. He was almost as tall as Frank now.) So, in deference to Harry’s tendency to enter into a situation with his mentor and exterminate anyone in his path, Wade dubbed him (a little jokingly) _The Scourge_. After all, he did wipe out everything indiscriminately and leave no survivors.

Frank snorted at that. Then, he actually laughed a genuine belly laugh at the name. (Harry flipped him the bird.) 

But the name stuck. And frankly, Harry _liked_ having his own title. 

After a couple of years, the criminal underbelly figured it out. The Punisher and The Scourge were definitely not people you wanted to come across if you were on the wrong side of the law. No matter the location, they’d infiltrate, execute, destroy, and vanish without anyone being able to prove that they were there in the first place. (Most of the evidence was usually blown to bits anyway.) And, with the aid of Harry’s magic, they could get into almost any site undetected. He was able to make himself and, if he concentrated really hard, someone else invisible to those around him.

He liked when Frank would let him show off by blowing up parts of buildings or through walls without the aid of any explosive. Frank, on the other hand, would only roll his eyes and grump that at least Harry was saving them money on the cost of blasting caps and explosives. 

God, he _fucking loved_ his magic.

**\----------**

**\--- 1996 (Sixteen Years Old) ---**

**\--- London ---**

Harry didn’t, however, like it when they took missions around London. It might have been almost nine years ago that he was ‘adopted’, but he still hated being anywhere near his old relatives’ home. It brought back all the anger he felt from when he lived there. He thought that he had gotten rid of that portion of his rage when he killed them all. He thought he had dealt with it by getting revenge for his piss poor excuse for a life back then.

Obviously not. 

He scowled as he walked down the street, passing by shops and restaurants, ensuring that his face was never seen on any camera. At least he _had_ gotten the killing out of the way and could just focus on living his own life now, concentrating on whatever mission came along. 

London streets were easy to traverse, and no one really paid attention to him. Even when he was in his black tac pants, boots, black shirt with his signature white skull drawing with two daggers crossed behind it, and long black leather trench coat - weapons not visible, but definitely present - he was mostly ignored. 

His clothes weren’t the only intimidating thing about him. After requesting (read: begging) that he be allowed to dye his hair, Frank finally gave in. He let Wade help him dye a streak of silver in his hair and shave the sides and back short so that it fell into his eyes in a long mohawk. 

He was so happy he didn’t have to wear those awful glasses anymore, either. Apparently, it was worth it to Frank to spend the money to go to a legitimate surgeon and get him cataract surgery. (Even though that surgeon was in Singapore. Harry was just glad he didn’t have to get it done at the ‘night clinic’ in Hell’s Kitchen.)

To those who did notice him, he probably looked like a proper villain stalking down the street. He didn’t really care at the moment, though. No, he was just pissed that he was _back in London_. 

But even more than being annoyed about London, he was sulky about the fact that Frank had left him here in one of their safehouses and fucked off to god knows where to do a job for a week. 

_“It’s a one-man job, kid. Pay’s good. No fuss. In and out. I’ll be done and back before you can fill yourself up on fish n’ chips or some other crap. You’ve got the bank codes for here. Hit the town, or something. Stay anonymous, sure, but find something to entertain yourself. It’s the end of summer. Go see the sights, or some shit, before you have to go back to Dr. Strange for more training this fall.”_

Frank was off the grid completely. He sent a code a couple days prior, informing Harry that he had arrived just fine and wasn’t dead. Harry knew his general location, but it would be a week or so before he was able to come back online. 

At least there was cool shit to see in London. 

Twisting his hand in a circular motion, Harry brought some of his magic around him to further buffer any unwanted attention. He may have been quite skeptical when Dr. Strange started training him, but the good Doctor was right. The benefits did _far_ outweigh the cost of all that hard work. He wasn’t as high up on the Sorcerer Supreme ladder as Dr. Strange, and frankly he didn’t want to be, but he was good. Real good. And he was _powerful_ , he thought with a smirk. 

Winding through West End, Harry felt a grumble of hunger hit his stomach. Food, first priority, then something to waste some time on before he returned to the safehouse. 

Up ahead he noticed a pub called the Leaky Cauldron. Snickering at the name (magic!), he made his way through the door and was hit by the smells of autumn, pumpkin, shepherd’s pie and stale ale. This place was his and Frank’s kind of dive. 

He scanned the entrances, exits and who would cause the most issue in a fight. Seeing nothing of note, he made his way to the back near the wall so that he could see the comings and goings while he ate. As he reached the wall, however, he noticed a shimmer along the bricks. He turned to see if anyone was watching… they weren’t… before running his hand along the bricks.

They moved. Oh shit! They moved!

He pressed them, and under a shimmering wall of invisible magic, he watched as they moved and parted, opening a doorway for him to walk through. 

He looked around again, trying to see if anyone else saw what he did. No one seemed to be paying attention to him at all. Either these people had seen this happen before, or they couldn’t see it because he was the only one who could. 

It didn’t matter, though, Harry _had_ to investigate now. Frank did tell him to go find something to entertain himself. (He probably wasn’t referencing magic walls or doorways, but what Frank didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.)

With his hand near his thigh holster and a knife up his sleeve, ready to fight, Harry stepped through the doorway into one of the loudest and busiest alleyways he had ever seen. It was bright and bustling. Wares were lining the street. People were passing by him in ridiculous Halloween getups, complete with pointy hats. Their robes made everyone look like an extra out of Hocus Pocus. (Wade made him watch that every year because, "You're a wizard, Harry Potter." Harry just rolled his eyes at his antics and punched him.)

He skirted by people, trying not to gape at the sights, while keeping a hand close to his weapons. Turning down a darker alley with more shadows to hide in, he noticed a tall, pale man, about late 40’s, standing in front of a store called Borgin and Burkes. His brown hair, with a little gray at the temples, was cut short and styled in a 50’s way, slightly curled and parted down the side. He wore long black robes. (No pointy hat.) The man gave off an aura of danger that made the hackles on the back of Harry’s neck rise. (“Trust your gut, kid. If someone seems ‘off’, they’re probably ‘off’.”)

The man took a pocket watch from his robes to check the time, then he turned and made direct eye contact with Harry.

Harry had never seen red eyes before. Holy crap, they looked cool! He’d have to ask Frank if he could get some colored contacts or something, maybe black ones. Green eyes were cool and all (and kind of matched the whole Scourge theme) but _red_? The man’s eyes were awesome!

As Harry looked at the man’s eyes, he gazed calmly back at Harry and tilted his head to the side curiously. 

Harry felt pressure behind his forehead and quickly envisioned his magic surrounding his mind to shield himself, just as Dr. Strange had taught him. His first priority was to protect his mind. His next priority was to protect his body. He twitched his fingers and hastily cloaked himself in invisibility. 

The man jerked, in apparent shock, and looked at where Harry was standing for a long moment before walking toward him. Drawing his knife, Harry regulated his breathing to slow, quiet breaths. He readied himself for an attack, just in case the man could see through his magic. Fortunately, the man glanced around in slight confusion, then walked right by, muttering to himself about 'Chosen Ones' and ghosts.

After the man passed him by, Harry took a deep breath in relief. This place was weird.

He walked back to the main road, still maintaining his invisibility cloak. It was easier this way to just observe. If he had been smarter and remembered Frank's nagging, he would have just been cloaked from the get-go. ("Always plan ahead, kid. Go into every situation with all the odds stacked in your favor.") He figured, though, better late than never.

With sensation overload from the noise and the weird stores, Harry almost missed the short, blond-haired girl with a slightly dazed expression who had come to a stop in front of him. He managed to regain some situational awareness and did not hit her, but it was a near miss. He shuffled quietly to the side so that she could pass him by.

She moved with him, mirroring his movements. It seemed like her glazed eyes were staring right through his magic and into his soul.

“Hello, Harry. You look good as The Scourge. Kind of a silly name, but it fits you, I think.”

Well, shit. Why did this stuff always happen when Frank wasn’t there? Harry was going to be in _so_ much trouble. No amount of 'wax on, wax off' was going to get him out of this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Movies Quoted/Referenced:  
> 
> 
>   1. The Karate Kid (1984)
>   2. Hocus Pocus (1993)
> 



	11. On Freaking Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is perturbed by a sprite and makes a strategic retreat, ~~calling~~ texting for some reinforcements. (He is _not_ freaking out, thank you very much.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little shorter, but still thank y’all so much for the comments and kudos. No trigger warnings in this chapter that I can see. (Yell at me if you think I should add some.)

_No amount of 'wax on, wax off' was going to get him out of this one._

**\--- 1996 (Sixteen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Diagon Alley ---**

“You can see me?”

The girl tipped her head to the side and smiled, “Of course I can see you, silly boy. How could I _not_ , with all those Nargles flying around your head?”

Harry nodded dumbly, horribly confused about what his life even was right then. Shifting nervously and dropping into a defensive crouch, he let his knife fall into his hand and brought it closer to her body, ready for whatever fight this girl could bring. (He’d fought Wade enough to know that ‘crazy people’ fight back hard. He should have brought some tin foil or something shiny to distract her. Crazy people _always_ like shiny things.) He looked around to see if anyone else had noticed him standing there with the girl. They were all passing the two of them by, oblivious to the fact that he was even there.

She must have looked silly standing there ‘talking to herself’, Harry thought. Of course, she seemed the type of person who did not really _care_ if people thought she looked kind of weird. And what the hell were Nargles?

“What the hell are Nargles?” (Real smooth, Harry.)

“Oh, don’t worry about them so much. They’re nowhere near as bad as Wrackspurts or Heliopaths, but I would watch out just in case. Once you have them following you around,” her voice dropped to a whisper, “it is _very_ hard to get rid of them.” She reached out and patted him lightly on the arm.

(He will maintain until his dying breath that he _did not_ flinch away from the light touch of the tiny, sprite-like girl.)

“You can put the knife back, Harry. You don’t need to kill me today. At least I don’t think so. Although the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks might disagree. I should check with them.” She smiled dreamily up at Harry, “I promise not to say anything about you being here. However,” she paused, twirling a lock of her blond hair and fiddling with her cork (really???) necklace, “you should at least consider letting Tom and your uncles know you’re in Diagon Alley. They miss you, you know.”

Harry sucked in a quick breath. Just who _was_ this girl? And how did she know anything about him? (And who the hell was _Tom_???)

Harry stared at her for a moment, wondering if he had accidentally inhaled some Penthrox in the safehouse before wandering through that wall. The only way that this girl could possibly be making any sense to him was if _he was_ high on the anesthetic. He needed to get out of here… fast.

“Oookay, um, well it was nice (read: bizarre) meeting you, but I’ve gotta go.” He took a couple steps back away from the petite, crazy person.

She hummed quietly and held up a finger for him to be quiet and stop moving. “Yes, yes, I can see now.”

Nope. Nada. ไม่(1). Nothing doing. Нет(2). Nein(3). Nόn(4). 番号(5). And ‘no’ in every other language that he had been taught. He wasn’t going to stop. He wasn’t going to stick around and see what other kind of freaked out shit this girl could pull out of thin air. Slowly backing away from this pint-sized (albeit pretty) lunatic, Harry looked for the fastest escape route back to that magical hole in the wall. She was crazier than Wade! (And that was saying a lot!)

“Hmm, you do need to go,” she said distractedly. “The Punisher is coming back soon, isn’t he? Don’t worry, Scourge. He’ll help you when you find out all that happened to you and your family. Your old family, that is. The Potters. Oh, that is so wonderful! The immortal one will come before long, too!” She predicted serenely, giving him a small smile. “He seems kooky, but I like the red outfit and the big swords. They're much neater than a wand. Oh, but you don't need one of those, do you Harry? Hmm, yes. This _will_ be fun. I can't wait for school!”

(Harry thought, at this point, that _she_ was the only kooky one. And he was getting about as freaked out as one could possibly be when you were supposed to be invisible and _no one_ was supposed to have your personal information. Seriously. What… the… fuck…)

“Also, make sure you go to Gringotts before you leave to go back overseas.”

Harry’s jaw dropped. This was… too weird. Yeah, he was done. Turning on his heel he quickly stepped into the shadows, weaving in and out of people as he made his way back to the wall as fast as his feet would carry him. As he ran he heard her yelling after him that she would see him soon at Hogwarts.

He really did not feel comfortable in this place. He needed to get out of here… like, yesterday.

**\----------**

**\--- London Safehouse ---**

Harry was not okay. He was _not_ okay. He was categorically and _exceedingly_ not okay. Some weird girl had mentioned Frank, who he couldn’t get ahold of right now, and she knew all of those things about him. Stuff that no one but Frank, Wade and a couple other tights-wearing people knew. Not only that, but what was all that crap about Tom, and Gringuts? And she mentioned Hogwarts! They hadn’t been able to find out anything about the school.

Of course, thinking logically (as much as he could in his minor panic), it would make sense that a whole bunch of people dressed up like witches and wizards would know where the school for witches and wizards was. Duh, Harry.

This situation had ‘hard nope’ written all over it. He just _knew_ coming anywhere near London was a bad idea! Checking all of the locks and traps again, he tried to calm himself.

Pacing the living room with his phone in his hand, he kept checking to see if Frank had sent any distress signal or ‘all clear’ code. He kept looking for any communication from him. Needing to know if he was coming back. Needing to hear anything.

Nothing.

Okay, he told himself, he was the all intimidating, exterminating, destroying Scourge. He could handle this himself. He didn’t need help. He didn’t need Frank.

(Yes he did.)

Realizing that Frank _would_ probably be pissed (read: so angry that he would probably be in _deep deep shit_ when Frank found out) if he tried to do anything about this by himself, he sent out a few messages and sat on the couch to wait for the replies. He knew that Frank wouldn’t be able to answer since he was still on his op, but maybe he could get a little help from another sector. After all, Frank wasn’t the _only_ guy he knew with a bad attitude and a penchant to leave destruction in his wake.

A few minutes later he received his reply.

_(Patch) 14:42_

> Sit tight bub we r on our way

_(Scourge) 14:42

> We? 

(Dead) 14:47

> Aloha Hoy! Im comin too! We cn get lei’d 

(Dead) 14:47

> *Waggles eyebrows*

(Scourge) 14:48

> Wrng hmsphre dmbass *rolls eyes* 

(Dead) 14:51

> Awww no babe! Ok put another shrimp on the bahbie! 

(Dead) 14:52

> The dingo ate my baby! 

(Scourge) 14:53

> Wrng cntry try agn

(Dead) 14:55

> London Calling!! 

(Scourge) 14:56

> Better *slow clap* 

(Dead) 14:59

> Author says this is gonna be da bomb *evil laugh* 

(Dead) 15:00

> Oooh want anotha cuppa tea gov’na? 

(Dead) 15:00

> Fish 'n chips! 

(Dead) 15:01

> Tickety Boo! 

(Dead) 15:01

> Bangers n mash! 

(Scourge) 15:02

> Stapp ur jst sayin British shit now 

(Dead) 15:04

> U know it Mini - Menace! Road trip!!!! Warm up the welcome wagon n find a decent place 4 chimichangas!!! The cavalry is comin across the pond! 

(Patch) 15:05

> Yeah - tried to rid myself of the Red annoyance but hes comin with n wont shut up bout magic n seeing the Queen 

(Scourge) 15:07

> *Snort* Cool thx gys

(Scourge) 15:08

> Could do it myslf but happy 4 hlp 

(Patch) 15:17

> No problem bub 

(Dead) 15:19

> Time 2 paaarrrtttaaaayyy!!! 

(Dead) 15:21

> Id keep talking but Patch got his claws out 

(Dead) 15:22

> O cute hes growling 

(Dead) 15:32

> OW! 

(Dead) 15:35

> Claws hurt 

(Dead) 15:36

> I should put away the phone 

(Dead) 15:42

> He skewered me again 

(Dead) 15:45

> Dont worry… I got better 

(Patch) 15:51

> Shut up 

_

**\----------**

Harry was thrilled when Logan and Wade finally made it to the safehouse. He might have been almost an adult (and done lots of things that _most_ adults had never done – like having a way higher kill count), but sometimes he just needed an actual adult (Wade didn't _really_ count) to help him out with the hard stuff. (Like when he had encountered a crazy girl after he walked through a magic door into a magic alleyway and got told about Hogwarts and to go visit some guy named Tom.)

_“So this bodacious bitty Betty Boop said that you needed to find 'Tom' and your uncles? Wait, we're not finding 'Uncle Tom', right? I don't think I'm down with that kind of negativity in my life. Oh! Did she point out a white rabbit to follow or at least pull one out of her pointy hat?”_

_Harry dragged his hand down his face in frustration. “It’s not that kind of magic, Wade. But it was fuckin’ bizarre. She knew all this stuff about me. She mentioned that school I was supposed to go to. She even knew that you were coming. She called you ‘kooky’.” Harry punctuated his statement with finger quotes._

_Logan grunted, “He is kooky. And, yeah, bub, that seems strange.”_

_“Hey! I resemble that remark!” Wade gasped, clutching dramatically at his chest._

_Harry paced back and forth in the living room, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “Can we pleeeeaaase focus? Frank’s already gonna kill me when he gets back. I know I shouldn’t have gone through some crazy magic doorway without someone watching my six. I just need some help, maybe, I don’t know, with backup. I want to go back in and see about the stuff she was talking about. Guys, she knew about Hogwarts. Only the X Men, Dr. Strange, Matt and Foggy, and Frank and I know about that letter.”_

_He turned pleading green eyes to the two men standing there who were listening to his rant. “Remember how hard we tried to find out about where that place was? Remember Frank flipping the fuck out? Remember? I sure as hell remember. I hadn’t seen that much blood in a looong time. He’s gonna do that this time too, I just know it. If we get some answers before he shows up we (read: I) might not have to deal with that big of a blowup. (And hopefully not literally, although... it is Frank.) And I think the school might be around here! I think I should maybe try to find Tom, or that Gringuts (Greengoots?) place. They might have some answers or something.” He took a deep breath and plopped down on the couch. Damn. He hoped they agreed to help._

_Wade snickered, “OOooh, Little Baby Scourge is scared of the Big Bad Punisher…”_

_Harry gawked at him, “Uh, yeah. He’s like… my dad? Have you met him?? And do you not remember the last time that you and I pissed him off??? (Although, getting lost in Rio de Janeiro during a mission and ending up dancing in a parade with Wade during Carnival was kind of worth it.) He shot you in both shoulders and then stabbed you in the neck!! I’m lucky I just got grounded!!!” He shouted into the room. God, he needed to calm the fuck down. Panicking was not going to solve anything. (“Stay calm, kid. Deep breaths before you take on a big mission. Go in with a clear head. No one ever won anything by goin’ in half-cocked.”)_

_Logan grunted, with what Harry assumed was his version of a laugh, and rifled through the fridge. He grabbed one of Frank's beers and popped it open on one of his claws. (They're multi-use!) He took a long pull before sighing deeply through his nose. “Alright, bub, calm yer tits. We’ll help. Not standin’ in way of Frank’s punishment of ya when he hears about this, but we’ll help,” Logan finally agreed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1. Not – Thai, 2. No – Russian, 3. No – German, 4. Not – Italian, 5. No - Japanese  
> (If these are wrong, I apologize. I used Google Translate)
> 
> SMS text messaging started in 1992, but by 1996 it would have been fairly easily available, especially on phones that people who had government contacts or better available technology had. I assume they are using T-9 methods of texting, however, hence the horrific spelling and bad grammar. Also... Deadpool and Wolverine texting? (That's reason enough.)


	12. On Banking Transactions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Logan walk through a hole, meet a giant, and foray into the world of wizarding finance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look ma! I made up for the last short chapter with this nice long one. 😊 Enjoy. Also, thanks again for the kudos/comments.
> 
>  **Trigger Warnings** in end chapter notes.

_“Alright, bub, calm yer tits. We’ll help. Not standin’ in way of Frank’s punishment of ya when he hears about this, but we’ll help,” Logan finally agreed._

**\--- 1996 (Sixteen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Wizarding World ---**

By majority agreement (Wade wasn’t even _allowed_ to vote, due to his penchant for making every situation into either a bloodbath or a dissertation about proper Mexican food) Harry and Logan decided they would go back into the magical alley and see what they could find out. Hopefully they could find that Grenguts place that the crazy girl told him to go see. He wasn’t feeling too optimistic about finding some random guy named ‘Tom’, but he could at least ask around subtly. (As subtle as Wolverine and The Scourge could be. Probably better than Deadpool, but not by much.) Not to mention the fact that Harry felt good about having Logan at his back. Frank would very much approve. (And maybe not rip him a new one for having gone off half-cocked in the first place – Yeah, no, that was wishful thinking on Harry’s part.)

They grabbed a quick bite for a late dinner ( _not chimichangas!_ ) then walked back so Harry could show Logan the Leaky Cauldron. 

Harry didn’t think that he could stomach actually eating _inside_ the pub. After his last experience in the place, just the thought of actually eating there made his skin crawl. So, they grabbed some Tikki Masala. A much better choice, seeing as the dive restaurant had no magical walls to fall through. Logan even grumbled his approval.

Taking Logan through the Leaky Cauldron, he could tell that the man’s hackles were raised. When Harry asked what was wrong, he merely grunted about a weird smell coming off of a couple of the people there. 

“Like bad b.o. or somethin’?” Harry asked, surprised.

“Nah, like… animal. Some of ‘em almost feel feral. Wild. A little like me, but also a little different. Don’t like it. Don’t’ like it one bit.” Taking a deep sniff, he shook his head and gave a small growl. He flashed a bit of his long eyeteeth at a couple of the more dubious looking patrons, then walked with Harry further to the back of the pub, toward the wall. 

Harry understood his feelings. These people felt, well, off. 

They reached the back wall and Harry pointed at the swirling and shimmering magic, trying to see if it was visible to Logan as well.

Logan just shrugged and said it must be some magic mumbo jumbo that only magical people could see. He could smell something, though, but couldn’t see any _damn movin’ bricks_. They looked just like normal bricks to him.

Harry took a deep breath and, using the same pressing on the bricks technique that he used to get through the wall earlier that day, he opened the wall for the both of them. Logan stepped back in mild surprise. (His stoic facial expressions sometimes rivaled Frank’s – Harry _assumed_ he was surprised.)

They walked through, Logan going first with Harry on his six. The sights and sounds were different at night. People were not as loud, and there were not as many milling around. They must have made a strange pair, standing out against the ‘normal’ clothing of the other people in the alley. Logan looked savage and hostile, sporting his classic leather coat, white muscle tank, worn jeans, scuffed black boots and (somewhat ridiculous) wild sideburns. Harry was still dressed in all black, same as earlier in the day, but he decided to add his leathers for comfort. (Anything to help him go into this bizarre situation.) 

He noticed how Logan was scenting the air and drawing up his shoulders with obvious discomfort from the magic in the air. 

Yeah, Harry felt that too, but they needed to focus. They needed find this Greenguts place.

He skirted in the darkened areas, showing Logan the side alley he went down earlier. He pointed out where he saw the red eyed man in front of the Borgin and Burkes store. Harry watched as Logan looked around the alley, probably just as confused as he was earlier that day. Taking his eyes off of where he was walking (Jesus! Second time in one day!) he bumped into someone coming the opposite direction along the alley.

Harry was getting taller (not a pint-sized Punisher anymore, thank you very much), but this man(?) was _HUGE_. Logan, who was a few inches shorter than himself, was positively dwarfed.

“Oh, 'm sorry. Didn't see ye there. ‘Ave t’ watch yerself when ye're walkin’ down Knockturn, ye know, might meet yerself some _unsavory_ characters,” the huge…uh…man (yes, Harry was sticking with 'man' for now) blustered, stepping back from where he and Logan stood. (Harry had to snicker, even through his shock over the look of the man, that _he and Logan_ were not considered unsavory characters by this guy.)

Harry had seen some big guys in his life (see: Frank, people they fought with, and people they fought against), but no one close to the height and girth of this hairy behemoth. And Logan, well he had seen way too much shit with his X cronies. In fact, Logan probably wasn’t even really phased by this guy’s stature. 

Then again… Harry heard the telltale ‘schnick’ sound of claws coming out behind him.

“Knockturn? Is that where we are?” Harry asked quickly, not really wanting to have to kill (or have Logan kill) some random man in an alley when they _just_ discovered the place where he might get some answers about his life. (That, and the fact that cleanup of a body that size would be monumental and really cut into their evening's plans.)

The giant (yep, he changed his mind, 'giant' was what Harry was going with now) gave them an enormous smile, obviously oblivious to the fact that Logan’s claws were out and that Harry had more weaponry on him than any 16-year-old ever should. 

“Ye must be new ‘ere. Judgin’ from the accent, ye must be comin’ from America? Ilvermorny? Tis a good school, tis. Not nowhere near ‘s good as ‘Ogworts, but then again, nowhere is.”

(Ilvermorny? Ugh, just _another thing_ to add to his list of ‘what the fuck is that’.) 

“Did you say Hogwarts?”

The giant bobbed his head enthusiastically, “Yes, yes. Tis me ‘ome. Up past 'Ogsmead, it is. Best place in t’e whole world.” He dipped his head, “Professor Rubeus Hagrid at yer service.”

Harry stood in stunned silence, staring at the giant. This was it! He found it! He found Hogwarts! And after all the years that Frank and he were looking for it, all he had to do was walk through some magic wall!

Logan huffed in annoyance behind Harry, and the sound of his claws retracting brought him out of his reverie. “Pull yer shit together, bub. We best be gettin’ on our way.”

Harry gave Logan a quick nod in agreement, then he turned back to Professor Hagrid. “Would you also know where Greenguts is?”

The giant immediately nodded, apparently happy to help the two slightly menacing strangers trespassing in his world. “‘Course I can tell ye where Gringotts is! Tis, after all, t’e only bank in all ‘o Diagon Alley.” 

He pointed in the direction of a large, multistoried marble building with columns on the outside. A giant dragon sculpture sat atop, looking down at the intersection of the alley they were currently on and the road that Professor Hagrid had called Diagon Alley. It seemed quite imposing, looking down on the street and shops below.

This place was _so fuckin’ cool!_ He couldn’t wait to show Frank!

**\----------**

Harry and Logan stood inside the bank, looking at the giant marble columns inlaid with gold fillagree. The floor had an intricate design that subtly moved those waiting for the tellers closer to their goal. At the end of the main room a figure sat at a podium, writing in a giant book. (With a feather? Also, the man seemed like the shortest, ugliest person he had seen in a while, resembling Sloth a _smidgen_ too much.)

Logan bumped his shoulder and inclined his head to the short man(?) on the podium. “Come on, bub, let’s get some answers for ya.”

They walked up to the creature (it was _not_ a man) and Harry cleared his throat. “Excuse me?”

The creature peered down at him over gold rimmed glasses. “Yes?” His voice was gravely and grating, like Frank after being blown up.

“Uh, yeah, I was told to come here?” Harry said in a small voice. (Not intimidated at all, thank you very much!)

“Hnnn, name?”

“Harry Potter,” Harry replied quickly. Logan placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder and squeezed a little for comfort. This whole situation was making him uncomfortable.

The creature stopped his indifferent attitude immediately and an interested gleam showed in his eyes. “You have proof of this?”

Harry looked over to Logan who just shrugged. “I have, uh, some ID, I guess. A passport (or _passports_ , in a few different names, but this creature did not need to know that) if that will work.”

“Wait here,” the little creature ordered gruffly. Harry thought that Frank would quite like these guys. They had the same temperament as him.

On the wall Harry noticed a poem scrawled into the marble:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed  
Of what awaits the sin of greed,  
For those who take, but do not earn,  
Must pay most dearly in their turn,  
So if you seek beneath our floors  
A treasure that was never yours,  
Thief, you have been warned, beware  
Of finding more than treasure there._(1)

Oh yeah, Frank would _love_ these little fierce creatures. Appeared just as bloodthirsty as him. 

The creature returned with another one and they both peered at Harry, seeming to judge his very existence. The first one pointed to the second. “This is Ragnok. He will deal with you now.” 

Logan dipped his head in thanks while Harry followed Ragnok back through the bank, down long hallways and into, what he assumed, was Ragnok’s office. “So you think you are Harry Potter,” Ragnok grated out.

“I _know_ I’m Harry Potter.”

“Hnnn,” Ragnok rumbled. “You will provide a drop of blood for proof. We will see if what you claim is true. And if it is not, then there are punishments for trying to steal from Gringotts.” He curled his lips back (in either a grin or a grimace, it was hard to tell) showing pointed teeth that hadn’t seen a dentist… ever. (Harry was suddenly very glad that Frank made him go to the dentist regularly.)

Harry looked at Logan questioningly. Logan looked from Ragnok then back to Harry. “It’s your blood, bub. Do what you think is right. Pretty sure Frank would be ok with it, though, seein’ as they seem to have some information for you. It’s not like you’ve never lost some blood before.”

Nodding in agreement, Harry slid out his favorite knife and readied to pierce his finger. Ragnok eyed the knife with undisguised interest before pushing a stiff piece of ancient looking paper toward him.

“One drop, bottom of the parchment.”

Harry made a small nick in his left thumb, smearing a drop on the bottom of the parchment. Ragnok quickly took it back and gazed down at it while, letting out a small ‘hnnn’ every once in a while.

“You are who you say you are.” (Yeah, Harry _already knew_ that.) “I have more information to give to you, but first, since you are underage, where is your magical guardian?” He curled one side of his mouth up in a snarl while looking at Logan. “I am very aware that this… wolf… is not your guardian. I need you to have a legal guardian present. There is a legal precedence we must follow.”

Coughing in surprise at the description of Logan, Harry asked, “My what?”

Ragnok scrutinized him once more then said a little too condescendingly, “Magical guardian. According to some of these documents, Gringotts has been sending owls to you for years, trying to fix the state of your accounts. There have been some... discrepancies, since the wills were never read and the withdrawals have seemed extreme for a trust.”

“Just wait a sec,” Harry huffed out in annoyance, slipping his knife back into his hand. (Logan braced his arm at this point, reminding him that it was probably not wise to just maim weird looking creatures in a magical bank.) “I’ve never heard of you guys. I’ve never been to this place. Shit, the first time I heard of you was today when I was told by some cracked-out blond chick that you would have some answers about my childhood, or some shit. I don’t have a ‘magical guardian’ and my real ‘guardian’, my dad, is on a … business trip right now. He’ll be back soon, and I didn’t even know I had accounts here. For that matter, you’ve never tried to get ahold of me. The only time I’ve ever come in contact with an owl was in Kuwait and, believe me, I almost shit myself because _that_ was fuckin’ bizarre.”

Harry was spiraling into confusion and frustration. Logan grabbed the back of his leather coat, pulling him back from where he had stalked toward Ragnok’s desk in anger during his rant.

“Hnnn, yes, well. This does seem to be an issue. In fact, as I am looking over this paperwork, it seems that you do not actually have a ‘legal’ magical guardian at this time. There are a few listed, however they have never been acknowledged. The one we have been dealing with is not even listed under legal guardians. Hnnn. This is _very_ disturbing. I am not sure who all has been dealing with your accounts, but there have been many mistakes. It seems there might be one or two openings coming up in the accounts management arena. Hnn. Yes, well, enough of internal politics,” He paused, shuffling the papers in front of him once more.

“You should have been brought here immediately after your parents died, and a magical guardian and proxy should have been established from their wills, that were apparently sealed by the Wizengamot. Hnnn, it appears your proxy votes have still been used for the past 15 years, even without a declaration of a legal voter.” Ragnok huffed a deep breath through his nose, “It is good that you came here before your 17th birthday. It would have been much harder to fix this mess if you were an adult. I will send out notices. You will need to bring your guardian here tomorrow. We will read the wills of your parents and do an audit of your accounts. 1pm tomorrow should give me sufficient time to get everything in order.”

The grip Harry had on his knife was making his knuckles turn white. What was he saying? Harry should have had a magical guardian from the beginning? He should have had knowledge of magic from when he was born? Was he even supposed to live with the Dursleys? If not, who the _fuck_ put him there, and are they still alive so that Harry can _kill the shit out of them??_

**\----------**

**\--- London Safehouse ---**

_(Scourge) 22:45_

> _alert code: miyagi_

_(Miyagi) 23:21

> WTF ive been gone 3 days kid

(Miyagi) 23:21

> report

(Scourge) 23:22

> alive/snafu(2)

(Scourge) 23:23

> Dead n Patch r here

(Scourge) 23:24

> Hgwrts issue

(Scourge) 23:24

> found magic door

(Scourge) 23:25

> shit wnt fubar(3)

(Scourge) 23:25

> freakng out

(Scourge) 23:26

> need u

(Miyagi) 23:34

> current body count

(Scourge) 23:36

> 0 so far

(Miyagi) 23:48

> kk otw in 5 or 6 hrs

(Miyagi) 23:49

> tying up loose ends here

(Scourge) 23:50

> k angry tho need 2 fight smthng

(Miyagi) 00:06

> fight Dead

(Scourge) 00:07

> not the same

(Miyagi) 00:22

> find shits to kill then but stay out of trouble

(Scourge) 00:23

> copy

(Miyagi) 00:25

> going dark be there in a bit

_

**\----------**

“He’s gonna come back in a few hours,” Harry told Wade and Logan in relief. “He should be here in plenty of time for that will reading and all the other bullshit we’ll have to do tomorrow (today). I seriously can’t believe what my life is right now. This shit is so fuckin’ weird.”

Logan grunted in agreement from his spot on the couch while Wade nodded and jiggled his leg with pent up energy.

“So, what do we do until then?” Wade suddenly asked, popping up from the recliner.

Logan leaned back on the couch, beer bottle sweating in his hand, and closed his eyes. Appearing relaxed (but probably not as much as he looked) he mumbled something about sleep.

Harry was way too keyed up to sleep. His teeth were on edge. His mind was a whirl of turmoil and anger. Someone had fucked him over and was continuing to do so. They had ruined his life (Frank made it better, of course) and whoever they were deserved to pay! He needed Frank to come and help him sort all of this shit out. He needed a plan.

But first, he needed to get some of this rage out.

“I can’t possibly sleep right now. I need to fight. I need to put my fist through someone’s face while stabbing them in the kidney. I need to curb-stomp someone and shoot them in the head execution style. I need to get bloody. I need to get some of this chaos out,” Harry declared.

Wade perked up at his tirade. “Well, well, well, Baby Scourge. Chaos _is_ my middle name. Let’s go fuck some shit up!” He exclaimed as he pumped one fist into the air in excitement.

Logan slanted both of them an impassive look then rolled his eyes. “Don’t get caught.”

Wade cackled.

Harry grinned, baring all his teeth. “Every now and then, you have to get a little bloody. It's good for the soul.”

He _loved_ field trips with Wade.

**\----------**

**\--- London Docks ---**

Much later that morning, the London police were both pleased and frustrated to find the slaughtered bodies of an entire drug trafficking gang in a warehouse on the docks. At least twelve men were dead. (That could be identified.) Some had their throats slit; some of them had been beheaded. There were whole bodies and some that had been cut up. Every one of the skulls had been shot through the forehead first.

The overwhelming smell of human decomp filled the building. Blood pooled so thick on the floor of the warehouse that it had congealed into a rust colored soup the first responders had to kneel in. Rookie officers, who had never seen such carnage, ran from the scene and quickly lost their stomach contents on the side of the building. 

Even with all the destruction, no direct evidence could be seen as to who perpetrated the horrific scene. It helped that the police did not look too much into processing the evidence that _was_ there. Whoever was responsible, after all, _did_ put a big dent into their city’s criminal activity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warnings** : Brief description of a massacre. Slight descriptions of gun violence, knife violence, beheading, blood, gore.
> 
> 1. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, J.K. Rowling, _pub. 1997_  
>  2. Situation Normal, All Fucked Up  
> 3. Fucked Up Beyond Any Repair
> 
> Movies Quoted/Referenced:  
> 
> 
>   1. The Goonies (1985)
>   2. Just cause (1995)
> 



	13. Interlude (Part III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few owls bring some _very_ interesting news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for your comments, kudos and interest in this totally self-indulgent tale.

**\--- Malfoy Manor (Death Eater Meeting)---**

Voldemort looked out at his inner circle who were seated around the long table inside Malfoy Manor. The fire alongside the table warmed the room slightly, but the room still had a pretentious and gloomy air. Never let it be said that Lucius Malfoy, Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Malfoy, did not flaunt his galleons. Honestly, Voldemort would have much preferred a more intimate gathering place, like the Knights of Walpurgis had used, but when one of your inner circle offers a secure place for a meeting behind family wards, Voldemort would have been a fool to refuse.

Nagini, his precious snake, wrapped her large green body around the legs of his chair, having to go around a couple times as she was nearly twelve feet long. 

In reality, sitting there, mind drifting as the meeting continued, Voldemort was a little bored. The same conversations were being held around him that had been held for the past few months. They were making headway, but not fast enough.

This meeting was nothing exciting, merely a weekly update on the goings on in the Ministry. He needed to ensure that more Death Eaters were being put into places of power in the government. That way, when he did finally run for minister under the guise of T. Marvolo Gaunt, he would have the backing of the whole Ministry and as much of the Wizengamot that he could get his hands on. 

The wizarding world needed a change. This fight was not about blood purity, no matter what ideals the light claimed he had. No this fight was about the purity of magic. And Albus Dumbledore, his Order of the Phoenix and the radical light followers were corrupting the magic of the world. The wizarding world not only needed light magic, but it also needed dark, it needed gray. All magic was good magic, it was just how people used it. After all, he always said that there was no good and evil, there was only power and those too weak to seek it.(1) Voldemort was _not_ weak.

True, he had gone to ground after Dumbledore had concocted that whole conspiracy that he had murdered the Potters. As if he would murder such a prominent and powerful family who wanted to come and work with him to better the world, he scoffed internally. It may have made him look weak to some, but he had no choice but to bide his time. He would need to work from the inside to change the world. Dumbledore had his claws into too many pies and could sway people easily with that stupid grandfatherly twinkle in his eye. The bastard.

Voldemort was almost seventy, but in wizarding years that was barely over middle age. And, he had aged well, if he did say so himself. Not arrogance, merely the truth. He had plenty of life left to live. Therefore, once they had all of their pawns in place and had taken out a few more foes, he would take his place in the public eye. Charismatic and caring. Wanting nothing but the best for the people. Open to different styles and types of magic. Welcoming the different creatures, not labeling them ‘dark’ like the light had. Merlin, Fenrir and Lupin were two of his best followers. To even consider taking away their rights or making them drink that poison Wolfsbane potion would be tantamount to insanity. 

Yes, this would happen. It was taking time, but it would be worth it. The wizarding world would move into a better way of living.

He worked behind the scenes for now, having his followers enact his wishes. Violence, although not always the answer, was used when necessary. He knew his way around an unforgivable and would use them when warranted. Torture was not his go-to, but he did enjoy a well-deserved revenge session if someone had viciously wronged him or one of his followers. 

He found at an early age that the ‘light’ was not as light as they seemed. After all, the current Leader of the Light, sarcasm dripped from the words, was one of the most abusive wizards Voldemort had ever known. If only he had been able to fight back when he was put in his horrible situation back then.

Musing about the Potters brought forth the memory of earlier that day. That boy looked like James Potter, with just a little bit of Lily in the eyes. Well, if James had a very odd hairstyle and was dressed some sort of leather. It was not dragonhide, that much was evident, but it was well worn and obviously part of his normal dress. He had felt the magic surrounding the boy, as well. It felt wild and almost foreign. The boy was obviously a wizard, but there was no way that he was formally trained in any school that Voldemort could think of.

And then, the boy was able to block his legilimency. _Very_ few wizards or witches were powerful enough to block him. Again, he was not being arrogant. Just honest. Few were strong enough occlumens to stop him from invading their minds. 

That boy had just stopped him short. He hadn’t even had the chance to glance inside the surface thoughts. Those green eyes had met his, a silver-streaked black shock of hair falling in them, and immediately his mind had closed off. 

_Then he just vanished!_ No crack of apparition. No cloak covering him. No shimmering of disillusionment. He was just gone. All traces of him, magical and physical, disappeared in a second. Voldemort had never seen anything like it. 

The encounter had perturbed him enough that he thought about bringing it up during the meeting, but he held back. He would bring it up to Severus later. Get his opinion.

As he sat there, contemplating the odd encounter, Lucius’ house elf Mipsy popped into the room and bowed deeply to Lucius.

“Mipsy be bringing letters from owls for guests, Master Lucius,” she squeaked, bowing her nose low enough to touch the silver platter that held the sealed letters.

Lucius looked at her and nodded, “You may deliver them, Mipsy.”

Mipsy first came over to Voldemort and held out a letter. “I be giving you your letter, Lord Dark Voldemort, sir.”

Voldemort gave a small smile of thanks and took the note, noticing it was from Gringotts. Curious.

_**Attn:** The Dark Lord Voldemort  
Heir of Salazar Slytherin  
Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Gaunt  
A.K.A Tom Marvolo Riddle  
A.K.A T. Marvolo Gaunt  
A.K.A He Who Must Not Be Named  
A.K.A You Know Who  
Malfoy Manor  
Wiltshire, England_

Sir,

_Gringotts requests your presence at the reading of a will, 1pm on the afternoon of tomorrow, the 5 th of August, 1996. _

_Measures will be made to ensure the privacy of all parties involved. Additional guests will be removed without regard to their personal safety._

_Punctuality is expected. Tardiness will be viewed as insult, as death is the only acceptable excuse. The doors for the reading will close promptly at 1pm._

_May your enemies die at your feet and your gold ever flow,_

_Ragnok  
Warlord  
Director, British Isles Gringotts  
**‘Warriors Fight the Worthy - There is No Honor in Fighting the Pathetically Weak’**_

Well, he thought to himself, tapping the corner of the letter on his chin, this meeting just got a little more interesting.

**\----------**

Severus Snape enjoyed the Death Eater inner circle meetings. It was a chance to get away from the overbearing ‘holier than thou’ presence of one Albus Dumbledore. The odious man had been on Severus’ case regarding all the movements of Voldemort and if he was really still working. Dumbledore knew that Severus had followed Voldemort for a while during the First Wizarding War, and then the guilt trips over all of the losses of light wizards and witches had been heaped upon his head. Eventually, being the young and still quite impressionable wizard he was back in the war, Severus had agreed to work some angles for Dumbledore.

And he hated every minute of it.

As soon as he discovered that his Lord had been framed for the deaths of the Potters (and Black had been set up to take the blame as well) he knew what kind of monster really lurked under those garish robes and false twinkly eyes. But there was nothing to be done. Lily was dead, Harry was gone without a trace. All he was ever told was that ‘Harry was happy. Harry was healthy. Harry would return.’

Then, came the year that it all changed. Harry turned seven and Severus’ world imploded. He wasn’t being kept in a safe house. No, he was being kept with the worst possible muggles there were. Petunia and Vernon. Even thinking the names made his skin crawl and he was a war veteran and had seen _many_ different types of torture sessions in his years. That poor little boy must have endured so much in that house. Even now, almost nine years after learning about his deplorable upbringing, Severus’ heart clenched in pain. 

Merlin, how he wished he had insisted when the Potters died that he could take Harry to Gringotts and claim him. He could have been the father and mentor that the boy needed. He could have raised him in a proper wizarding way, teaching him about potions. Of course, Lily’s boy would love charms and potions. 

He had to wonder where Harry was now. His name was called out by the Sorting Hat in the ceremony five years ago to a deathly silent Great Hall. Severus remembers his breath stopping for a moment and his heart dropping into his stomach at the thought that Harry _might_ be there. He _might_ have been living under everyone’s noses and had snuck into the line of first years. But, no, it wasn’t to be. Harry never showed, and Severus was left with a hollow feeling in his gut and an overwhelming sadness that he might never see his best friend Lily’s little boy.

This situation was all Dumbledore’s fault. He was the one who put Harry in that deplorable ‘home’. Even the Dark Lord and he had better living conditions. Severus could only imagine the abuse.

Why didn’t Severus fight back more against the whole situation? He should have _insisted_ that Dumbledore tell him where Harry was. Why did he just let those decisions be made around him? Why did he allow Dumbledore to be in charge of anything in his life? Yes, the man was very powerful, with all his accolades and his many seats and various titles. But Severus was strong now, too. He was a powerful wizard in his own right. A Master of Potions. He knew one hundred and one ways to kill a person without having even leaving a trace. (He _loved_ potions!) He could fight back. 

Which was why he loved inner circle meetings. These like-minded individuals were actually working to better the wizarding world. The Dark Lord had a good plan. One that, if they set things up correctly in the Wizengamot, the Ministry and Hogwarts, could allow them to usurp Albus Dumbledore of too many names.

The meeting was interrupted half-way through by Lucius’ house elf Mipsy and her delivery of some letters. Severus watched as the Dark Lord’s eyebrows went up in slight curiosity while he read his letter, then he gave a small smile. Severus wondered what the letter contained.

As he was pondering the Dark Lord’s letter, Mipsy skuttled over to him and gave him his own missive.

_**Attn:** Professor Severus Tobias Snape  
Head of Slytherin House, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
Potions Master  
A.K.A Severus Tobias Prince  
A.K.A The Half-Blood Prince  
A.K.A Snivellus  
Malfoy Manor  
Wiltshire, England_

Sir,

_Gringotts requests your presence at the reading of a will, 1pm on the afternoon of tomorrow, the 5 th of August, 1996. _

_Measures will be made to ensure the privacy of all parties involved. Additional guests will be removed without regard to their personal safety._

_Punctuality is expected. Tardiness will be viewed as insult, as death is the only acceptable excuse. The doors for the reading will close promptly at 1pm._

_May your enemies die at your feet and your gold ever flow,_

_Ragnok  
Warlord  
Director, British Isles Gringotts  
**‘Warriors Fight the Worthy - There is No Honor in Fighting the Pathetically Weak’**_

A will? Whose will could he possibly be a part of… unless… no! Where _else_ would Gringotts get the name _Snivellus_!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, J.K Rowling, _pub. 1997_


	14. Interlude (Part IV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few owls bring some _very_ interesting news. (Part II)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Snow Day!!! Have another chapter :)** You guys are awesome! Thanks for the comments and whatnot. It really brightens my day that y’all are even reading this.

**\--- Malfoy Manor (Death Eater Meeting)---**

Remus Lupin sat next to his alpha at the table housing the Dark Lord’s inner circle of Death Eaters. His skin still felt oversensitive as he sat there, trying to follow along with the conversation that flowed around him. He glanced over to where Sirius sat, fiddling with his wand and probably plotting a new way to prank some of the outer circle of Death Eaters. Remus chuckled.

The waning moon still pulled on his being, reminding him that only five days ago he and Fenrir had been running through the woods in their werewolf forms, checking on the pack and joining them for a hunt. 

Being a strong pack beta for the vicious alpha, his sire, was a full-time and rewarding job. Not only that, but aligning their pack with the Dark Lord meant that when Voldemort finally took over the Ministry and put his plans into place, the darker creatures would have the same rights as witches and wizards. 

If this had happened earlier in his life, _he_ would have been legally allowed to take Harry after James and Lily died. As it was, the Wizengamot and Ministry took one look at his werewolf status and ignored his pleas to take his cub and raise him. Moony would have loved raising a cub. He would have taught him the proper pack etiquette, shown him the ways of the wolf. He would have taught him all about the power of the moon. 

Moony, although a violent creature, loved to come out and play, and Remus loved that he had finally embraced that side of himself. When the Marauders were in school, Headmaster Dumbledore made it evident to all that he was only allowing Remus to attend on a trial basis. Even though he was ‘accepted’ by the old man, he was never trusted. Remus always felt like he was judged and found wanting due to his werewolf heritage. The only ones who truly accepted him for himself were James and Sirius. They even illegally became animagi so that they could all run in the Forbidden Forest on full moons. Prongs, Moony and Padfoot spent many a night exploring and running through the trees.

Very few people knew the _real_ reason that Fenrir decided to turn Remus that night when he was only six years old. There was animosity between Fenrir and Remus’ father Lyall, yes, but Fenrir would never turn a child in an act of vengeance. He loved cubs. He considered them cherished and would rather die protecting them than hurt a single one. Even human cubs were off limits, unless, of course, there were extenuating circumstances. 

Circumstances like the ones that he discovered when he went to visit one Mr. Lyall Lupin late in the evening in the fall of 1966. Remus did not have the most wonderful relationship with his father. Lyall was not a loving man, not outwardly abusive, but he was extremely emotionally distant and abrasive toward his son. He did not take notice when Remus began to fall ill from the bite of a rat that had occurred when they walked through Knockturn Alley earlier that day. He considered the boy to be merely whining and bothering him. Instead of helping his child, his focus was working on his issues in the Depart for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and fighting against werewolves like Fenrir having any of the same rights as witches and wizards in their world. He ignored the warning signs that his son was quickly falling into the first stages of the magical black plague, thought to be eradicated from the wizarding world.

That fateful evening in 1966, when Fenrir stopped by their home to discuss the issues with werewolf packs and the Department, he immediately sniffed the air around Remus. Feeling nervous, Remus backed away and Lyall began to yell and threaten the giant werewolf. Fenrir, however, felt his wolf come forward in an effort to rid the boy of the deadly disease. He bit Remus, and through the lycanthropy flooding the sick boy’s system, the plague was healed. Lyall was able to rally against Fenrir and fight him off and out of their home, but he never thought of helping Remus embrace the new side of his life. Thus, leaving Remus a werewolf for life with an alpha sire who was despised by his father and most of the wizarding world.

Needless to say, when Fenrir was run off, Remus’ life did not improve. He was shunned by his own father and considered a dark and violent creature. He barely was able to make it through life in the wizarding world as a ‘dark creature’, instead leaning toward his books to keep him company. That was, until he was able to attend Hogwarts and meet lifelong friends. 

They just never figured that one of the Marauders’ lives would end so _soon_.

Before the death of James and Lily, Remus had been thinking that moving to support Voldemort was a better option for them. The light side was quickly proving to be hateful and prejudiced toward those who were dark creatures, like himself. He was becoming dissatisfied with the way that Dumbledore was treating him, running him around like the dog that the wizarding world considered him. 

He hated it.

When James and Lily died and Harry disappeared, Remus felt empty and lost. He and Sirius, who had been out on their moon run that July evening, found quickly that Dumbledore had framed Sirius for the murders of their friends. They couldn’t, at that point, return to the proper wizarding world, so they disappeared as well.

They met up with Fenrir’s pack and were welcomed in, even though Sirius was only human. However, being an animagus and sometimes a literal dog, helped cement Sirius’ place among the werewolves.

The only time they ever heard about the cub again was after his 7th birthday when he disappeared _again_ from the horrible home that he was living in. Remus didn’t know the Dursleys, but after all that Severus and Sirius had told him, Moony would have definitely helped in their violent murders.

Sitting there and feeling good about his choices to become part of the group supporting the Dark Lord, Remus smiled wistfully at the thought of his cub. If only he could have done more. If only…

He was brought out of his reverie by Lucius’ house elf delivering letters to the Dark Lord and Severus. Sniffing subtly, he noticed the scent of surprise wafting off of the two men. He wondered what was in those letters, until he was handed his own by the diminutive elf.

_**Attn:** Mr. Remus John Lupin  
Werewolf  
A.K.A Moony  
Malfoy Manor  
Wiltshire, England_

Sir,

_Gringotts requests your presence at the reading of a will, 1pm on the afternoon of tomorrow, the 5 th of August, 1996. _

_Measures will be made to ensure the privacy of all parties involved. Additional guests will be removed without regard to their personal safety._

_Punctuality is expected. Tardiness will be viewed as insult, as death is the only acceptable excuse. The doors for the reading will close promptly at 1pm._

_May your enemies die at your feet and your gold ever flow,_

_Ragnok  
Warlord  
Director, British Isles Gringotts  
**‘Warriors Fight the Worthy - There is No Honor in Fighting the Pathetically Weak’**_

Remus felt his heart clench as he read the notification. Fenrir must have smelled the surprise and wave of sadness come over him because a large hand reached over to grasp the back of his neck. It gave a firm squeeze for comfort. Remus nodded at him in gratitude then glanced back at the parchment in his hand, making sure that the words were still there. That the _name_ was still there.

 _‘Moony’_. Only _one_ of the Marauders was dead. One dead friend and brother who called him that. Only _one_ Marauder had never had their will read, as far as he knew. Only _one_ of the Marauders had a child, Remus’ cub, who was still missing, who he _still_ agonized over…

**\----------**

Sirius Black rolled his wand through his fingers and contemplated the next prank that he could play on Snivellus. Maybe he could turn his robes pink while he gave his report to the Dark Lord… no! Maybe his hair! He snickered to himself, thinking of the dour man with pink hair. Meeting Moony’s eyes across the table, he gave a small smirk. Yeah, Moony probably knew what he was thinking about.

It wasn’t like he hated Snivellus or anything. In fact, he considered the man a good wizard and person. It was just that he was _so easy_ to annoy. And if there was one thing that Sirius loved and succeeded in doing, it was annoying people. Many said that he had never grown up. He just said that life was too short to not have any fun.

At one point in his life, when his father, mother, and brother were still alive, he knew his place in the world. He was being groomed to be the next Lord Black. Sirius spent hours learning the appropriate ways for a heir and Lord to act. As the eldest, _he_ was in charge of looking out for his brother.

Merlin, he missed Regulus. They hadn’t always seen eye to eye, but they had been brothers. Blood. And that was stronger than any animosity that could have possibly come between them. Besides, they survived the insanity that was being raised by Walburga Black. (A _true_ product of inbreeding and the Black madness. Of course, the same might be said about Sirius.)

He remembered being told that the Order of the Phoenix had captured and killed some Death Eaters. He recalled how his heart stopped when he was given the news that one of the ones who did not survive was his _little brother_. The Order was in high spirits from the raid, but there was nothing that could console Sirius. James and Remus tried to help, but all three of them were fighting for the light back then. They had to put forth the face of unity against the dark wizards who were ‘taking over wizarding Britain’ at the time.

That moment was the beginning of the end of Sirius’ love of the light. If they would take his baby brother from him, what _else_ would they take?

It would only be a year or so for him to find out. As he and Remus ran through the Forbidden Forest, a plot was put into action for James and Lily to be murdered in their home. A home that Dumbledore had protected _himself_ with a fidelus charm.

They were all on edge from a supposed prophecy that had been spouted from the mouth of a drunk divination teacher. The prophecy might have had something to do with Harry being a child chosen to bring about the downfall of a dark lord. It might not have. Prophecies are funny that way. They are _interpretable_. They are not, as most would believe, set in stone. But Dumbledore was convinced that the Potters needed to be protected. He would hear nothing from anyone disagreeing with his point of view. And, since he was Albus way too many names and accolades Dumbledore, head of every important group in the wizarding world, people fell in line.

Sirius would regret to his dying day that _he_ fell in line. That he followed along blindly, even after losing his brother.

He ended up regretting it even more when he discovered that _he_ was set up as the fall guy in the whole scheme. That anyone would believe that he would betray and kill his friend, his brother, was ludicrous. At least Moony believed him. (He had to - they were together that night.)

After the events of that evening as well as the loss of his pup, Sirius admittedly went a little crazy. Thankfully Fenrir and his pack took Moony and him in. They helped Sirius calm down and come to terms with all of his loss. (Well, as calm as Sirius would ever get.)

Then Severus came to tell both he and Moony about Harry’s second disappearance. The fact that Dumbledore had put him in that Merlin cursed home hurt deep inside Sirius' very soul. He _knew_ what Petunia was like. And Vernon, well, he would have gladly let either Padfoot or Moony rip that loathsome man’s throat out. It wounded him that Harry had even been exposed to those horrible excuses for muggles. To hear the description of his living conditions from Severus brought tears to Sirius’ eyes. His heart broke completely, right then and there. 

But his pup had disappeared. He had vanished. He was still considered to be alive, since the Hat had called his name during the sorting ceremony. He _had_ to be alive since the goblins had not declared him dead, thus declaring the Potter line abolished. However if he _was_ alive, he was in the wind. According to Severus, not even the all-knowing Albus fucking Dumbledore knew his location.

And that, right there, gave Sirius some hope. He hoped that wherever his pup was, whatever he was doing, he was safe. He was happy.

He smiled down at his wand again, concocting new spells for when they were finally able to get some revenge on Dumbledore. Focused on his plans, he almost didn’t notice when Lucius’ small elf Mipsy handed him a letter. He looked up to see if any others had received one. 

The Dark Lord held a letter in his hand and looked contemplative.

Snivellus looked at his letter in shock.

Moony, across from him, looked white as a sheet holding his letter. Sirius noticed Fenrir attempting to comfort his packmate.

Curious, Sirius opened his own.

_**Attn:** Sirius Orion Black  
Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black  
Animagus (Illegal)  
A.K.A Padfoot  
Malfoy Manor  
Wiltshire, England_

Sir,

_Gringotts requests your presence at the reading of a will, 1pm on the afternoon of tomorrow, the 5 th of August, 1996. _

_Measures will be made to ensure the privacy of all parties involved. Additional guests will be removed without regard to their personal safety._

_Punctuality is expected. Tardiness will be viewed as insult, as death is the only acceptable excuse. The doors for the reading will close promptly at 1pm._

_May your enemies die at your feet and your gold ever flow,_

_Ragnok  
Warlord  
Director, British Isles Gringotts  
**‘Warriors Fight the Worthy - There is No Honor in Fighting the Pathetically Weak’**_

Merlin’s saggy bollocks! 

Sirius stared at the letter in his hand, speechless. First of all, he groaned internally, these goblins knew _way_ too much about him if they knew about his animagus status. Also, he had a sinking feeling that tomorrow was going to bring about some serious revelations. (‘No, I’m Sirius’ - _snicker._ ) He knew that James’ will was never read because he _knew_ that he was in it. He was Harry’s godfather, for Merlin’s sake, and he _should_ have been notified as soon as they died so that he could make good on his promise to his best friend. He _should_ have been there to raise Harry. 

Instead, he was hiding, in secret, inside the wizarding world. And all thanks to the evil machinations of one Albus fucking Dumbledore. Although, according to Moony, it was the worst kept secret within most circles. _Everyone_ knew that he was still around somewhere, it was just that the aurors just couldn’t find him. It was hard, after all, to arrest a dog. And Sirius, well he was a dog in _every_ sense of the term. 

Looking back down at the notification from Gringotts, Sirius smiled. Maybe this was happening now because they were finally able to have everyone who was involved in the will present. Maybe they had found Harry! Maybe this would help him, at last, get his pup and bring him home!


	15. On Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank and Harry go to the bank and meet some interesting allies(?).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for your support and kudos/comments and the like. Y’all are keeping me inspired to continue with my tale.
> 
>  **Trigger Warnings** in end of chapter notes.

_Whoever was responsible,_ after all, _did put a big dent into their city’s criminal activity._

**\--- August, 1996 (Sixteen Years Old) ---**

**\--- London ---**

After Harry had disengaged all of the traps leading into their safehouse, he and Wade fell giggling into the living room. Wade was still gushing about the fact that Harry had outdone himself, again, with all of his perfectly aimed shots. Harry was ecstatic about the fact that they were able to get some of his pent-up aggression out on some shit-stains in the city.

Neither noticed the occupants on the couch.

“I take it the ‘field trip’ went well.”

Logan’s dry comment stopped them in their tracks, interrupting their celebrations.

Harry’s head swiveled over to where he sat… next to Frank! Both of the men had beers in their hands (it was, like, 8 am) and Frank’s glower had reached epic proportions.

Shrinking back a little from the obviously disgruntled man, Harry gave a small wave. “Hey, Frank, thanks for comin’ back for me,” he said softly.

He knew he had better tread through this conversation delicately, in deference to the fact that the man on the couch probably hadn’t slept in a few days and had to rush a weeklong mission. Just because Harry couldn’t stay out of trouble. 

“I tried to stay out of trouble and see the sights, like you told me, but I just stumbled on this weird magical world. It was super fuckin’ trippy, Frank. You’ll see. And, I, well I just didn’t know what to do. You _said_ to find something to do. I just thought that if I went through and explored a little, I might find something cool. It was creepy, and exciting, and crazy. People there dress like wizards and witches! There’s magic there, Frank. Even Logan felt it. I minded my own business, made sure to stay undetected (mostly). But this weird chick saw _through my magic_ , Frank… she could see right through it! Then she spouted some bizarre crap about a bank, that we ended up finding, and some shit about my old family. It freaked me right the fuck out. I got ahold of Wade and Logan, see – I _was_ being responsible, and they came to help. I didn’t _want_ to bother you. But it just got to be too much, Frank. I didn’t know what to do after we heard all that shit at the bank. And they said I had to have a guardian there. _You’re_ the only guardian I have. I just _had_ to send the code. I know I should have been smarter. I should have done better. I shouldn’t have gone in there half-cocked. I should have made sure that I did proper recon and waited for backup. But, it happened. And now we have to be back there today. I _want_ to be back there today. I want to learn about what we could never find, even with all of our background checks and ‘interrogations’ and investigations. I _need_ this, Frank… I just... yeah, I’m sorry,” Harry finally let his rant fade out so that he could catch his breath. He watched as Frank sat there, impassively, eyes boring into Harry’s. He waited with bated breath for him to say or do anything.

“You done?” Frank asked in a clipped tone.

Harry dipped his head down, “Yes, sir.”

Frank placed his beer down on the coffee table and stood up. He walked slowly over to where Harry stood and put his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Look at me, kid.”

Harry lifted his head to look at him, hope blooming in his chest.

“Ain’t sayin’ I’m happy, _at all_ , that you did this. In fact, when all of this is said and done, you’re fuckin’ grounded until you go back to train with Dr. Strange. And that means _no hangin' out with Wade, at all_ ,” he said. Harry’s heart dropped. “But, first and foremost, you're my fuckin' kid. I'm _always_ gonna come for you. I’m glad you were smart enough to call me back in. This is important to you, so we’ll figure it out.” He ruffled Harry’s hair with gruff affection, and went back to sit down. “You need to take a kip. We’ll leave here around twelve hundred hours so we can get there in plenty of time. Do I need to remind you to clean your weapons and have them ready to go?”

Breathing in a deep sigh of relief, Harry gave him a small smile and a quick negative inclination of his head. “No, sir. I'm on it. Um, are Wade and Logan gonna come with?”

Logan leaned forward in his seat on the couch and shook his head. “Nope, we’re gonna head back. Professor called and said we were needed as soon as you were taken care of. Besides, bub, you don’t need Wade’s kind of crazy in this situation.”

Wade pouted through his mask.

Grinning, Harry said goodbye and ‘goodnight’ to everyone and retired to his room. In just a few hours he was going to have some answers!

**\----------**

**\--- Gringotts ---**

They arrived at the bank fifteen minutes before the 1 pm reading of the will. Frank had dealt with the magical hole in the Leaky Cauldron and the bustling alley _way_ better than Harry had the first time he saw it. Harry supposed that came with the many years of experience that he had over Harry. Maybe he had seen some weirder shit in his travels before he ‘adopted’ him. Shrugging internally, Harry figured he was just glad that Frank seemed unfazed and ready to deal with whatever came their way.

They greeted the goblins (Frank had figured that out from the way they looked) with what passed as a cordial greeting from Frank. (Read: he didn’t try to kill them outright.) They were ushered into a room where Ragnok introduced himself to Frank and verified that he was, in fact, Harry Potter’s guardian. Harry thought, at one point, that the goblin was trying to intimidate Frank into telling him otherwise. Maybe Ragnok thought that through ‘subtle’ persuasion he could weasel out some incriminating information.

Ha! Silly goblin. He had _obviously_ never dealt with The Punisher (or The Scourge, for that matter.) Harry doubted if they had heard of the amount of times Frank had to deal with interrogation ‘under duress’. These guys were going to get a big fat nothin’ from him. 

Which was exactly what Frank gave them… nothin’. He stood there, calm and stoic, next to Harry, hands clasped loosely behind his back in a picture of relaxed parade rest. (He was not relaxed. Anyone who knew Frank at all would be able to see that he was _not_ relaxed. He could go from this position to killing a person in less than two seconds flat.) Harry mirrored his stance. Both of their black leather coats pulled open slightly to show their black t-shirts with white painted logos. Their black boots and jeans gave them an intimidating air of solidarity. It helped that they were armed to the teeth, with at least four firearms visible. That wasn't counting the ones strapped to their ankles. Nor did it account for the six knives that Harry had on his person. (Frank only carried three. Harry always _had_ liked knives a little too much.)

“Hnn,” Ragnok grated out after he was unable to get anything out of Frank. “You will both follow me into the will reading room. There is a magical ward in the room preventing any harm or violence to befall those inside. (Harry wondered if that only pertained to ‘magical violence’ or if his guns and knives would still work.) The ward will also prevent anything said or seen inside the room from being spoken of outside of those present, without the agreement of all parties.” He paused and glared at both Frank and Harry. “Gringotts takes the security of its patrons very seriously. Any attempt to usurp these precautions will be met with swift consequences.”

Apparently feeling like he had done his due diligence and threatened them severely enough, he nodded once and opened the door. “Follow me.”

The room was like the one where he and Logan had first met Ragnok. There were six chairs in a semi-circle around a large desk (presumably where Ragnok would sit) and the room had a feeling of heaviness. (It might have been Harry feeling the magical wards. It might have been Harry feeling the nerves from the situation. He wasn’t sure.) The main difference from the other room, however, was that four other men were inside, standing in the center of the room having a quiet conversation. Frank paused, in turn causing Harry to fall into line behind him. They instinctually formed a battle stance, waiting for shit to go sideways.

It didn’t.

The only thing that happened was that the four men turned (almost as one) to see the two new people who joined them along with Ragnok.

Harry looked at the four men while they studied him and Frank. They were in the same type of robes that most of the people in the alley were wearing. All black. The only difference was that each one had a slightly different stitching around the hem. 

One man had, if Harry was waxing poetic, kind eyes and slightly tousled brown hair. Harry noticed him take a subtle sniff of the air and widen his eyes. Another man had dark black long hair that appeared almost greasy. His face was completely blank and the first thing that Harry noticed, when he looked at him, was his _very_ prominent nose. The third man looked like Sid Vicious had in that movie - if he had cleaner hair, wasn't strung out, and was a little more patrician. The man had long curly dark hair, Tony Stark-esque facial hair, and a mischievous air about him. This guy looked like he knew how to have a good time. He was probably the least serious of the bunch. (Probably not as wild as the bassist for the Sex Pistols, though.)

The last man that Harry noticed was the same man from Knockturn Alley that he had seen the day before. His red eyes again tried to bore into Harry. He felt the telltale pressure in his forehead and bristled. Quickly shielding his mind, he shot the man a glare. A second later, he remembered to shield Frank’s mind as well. It wouldn’t do for either of their secrets to get out when they were in a strange magical area surrounded by unknowns.

Frank glanced at him, lifting one brow in silent question after feeling Harry’s magic.

Harry ignored the questioning look and growled low in his throat. He scowled at red-eyes. “Stay out of my fuckin’ head, asshole. You wanna keep those pretty red eyes? If you keep it up, you won’t. I'll take 'em from you, and you won't even get the chance to do anything about it. You wanna know what happens to an eyeball when it gets punctured? Do you got any idea how much blood jets out of a guy's neck when his throat's been slit? Seriously, stay the fuck out of my mind and maybe you won’t have to find out… or... maybe I’ll just let my dad deal with your dumb ass.” Harry gave a red-eyes a slight smirk and pointed a thumb toward where Frank was standing.

Beside him, Frank’s demeanor went deadly calm. He slowly turned to face red-eyes and pulled open one of the sides of his coat. “You fuckin’ with my kid?” He hissed quietly into the room.

Everything went eerily quiet as Harry smugly thought about how wonderful it was to have a 'dad' like Frank to fight his battles with him.

Red-eyes dipped his head slightly to the side and said smoothly, “I do apologize, good sir. To skim one's thoughts is instinctual by this point in my life. I have rarely found one as… adept as your son at feeling my magic.” He turned then to face Harry once more, “I apologize, young man. I will not attempt to intrude again.”

Harry huffed and crossed his arms across his chest. His hair flopped to the side as he shook his head. “Yeah, I don’t fuckin’ like it and you’re damn right you won’t do it again.”

Sid (as Harry was calling him in his head right then) shook his head incredulously and barked out a short laugh. “Merlin’s dirty pants, kid, I’ve never seen _anyone_ speak to the Dark Lord like that. We might just have to keep you around after this.”

Kind eyes elbowed Sid in the side to shut him up, and rolled his eyes in apology for his friend's(?) antics. "Ignore him," he groaned in obvious annoyance.

Frank still hadn’t stood down from the confrontation, but he seemed to calm a little at the apology.

“Gentlemen,” Ragnok interjected, clearing his throat loudly in the tense silence. (Harry had actually forgotten he was there.) “If you will take your seats, we can get the introductions and will reading under way.”

Nodding his approval, Frank motioned Harry to sit and then stood guard behind him. Harry’s heart warmed with the knowledge that he would not be left in a vulnerable position. Leave it to Frank to (literally) have Harry’s back. Frank _always_ protected him.

The other men sat and glanced between themselves and at Harry and Frank while they all waited for Ragnok to begin.

“You have all been summoned here for the reading of the will of one James Fleamont Potter (Harry snickered behind his hand – _Fleamont??_ Frank lightly flicked him on the ear to remind him to pay attention) and one Lily Jean Potter née Evans. In accordance with those mentioned in the will, Gringotts has gathered all parties involved, who are, in no particular order…”

Ragnok looked at red-eyes and said, “The Dark Lord Voldemort, Tom Marvolo Riddle, T. Marv…”

He was interrupted by Tom (Harry _wasn’t_ calling him Dark Lord so-and-so, he thought, internally rolling his eyes) who waved his hand regally. “Thank you, Ragnok, I believe that most here know all of my titles.”

Harry looked over at him and visibly rolled his eyes this time. Oh boy, this guy had more arrogance than Stark. Wait! Tom?? The Tom? This was going to be interesting.

Ragnok nodded and continued, gesturing next to kind eyes. “Mr. Remus John Lupin.” He continued to the right of Lupin and gestured to big nose. “Professor Severus Tobias Snape.” The last man gave Harry a roguish grin as he was introduced. “Lord Sirius Orion Black.”

The goblin turned to face Harry and gestured to Frank, who was standing behind him. “Mr. Francis ‘Frank’ Castle.”

He then looked at Harry and said, “And, finally, Mr. Harry James Potter.”

Harry heard a gasp from someone and exclamations of “Merlin!”, "Cub!", and "Pup!", before he found himself quickly surrounded by three men. He rose fluidly from the chair and kicked it to the side while Frank, not even hesitating, drew his two Kimbers from his sides, cocked them, and pointed them at the foreheads of the two men on the outside of the approaching triangle. Just as quickly, Harry drew his knife and brought it to just under the ribs in the side of the man in the middle who was attempting to grab (hug?) him, while also drawing and cocking his gun, sliding it under the man’s chin. 

Red-eyes ( _Tom_ , Harry, remember?) hadn’t moved from his chair and was watching the scene with unbridled curiosity.

Frank, in true form, hadn't said a word or made a noise.

“Fuckin’ move toward me again, man, and all of you will have new holes in your heads. Frank won’t hesitate, and he taught me _real_ good,” Harry snarled.

The three men looked surprised at the turn of events, the one in the middle (Sirius - not Sid) swallowed reflexively. Not moving, but glancing warily between the weapons, Harry, Frank, and then back to the weapons, the men stood there, frozen. The five of them held their positions like that for what seemed like forever, until Ragnok interjected yet again. “Gentlemen. Might I remind you about Gringotts no tolerance rule on violence during a will reading? Please maintain a modicum of decorum and return to your seats.”

Tom snorted lightly from where he still sat. “Well, you _are_ a violent little thing, aren’t you?”

Harry scowled and narrowed his eyes at him. “Seriously?”

The man who had been attempting to grab/hug him forced a laugh and sent Harry a crooked grin, “No, _I’m_ Sirius.”

This caused kind eyes (Remus, Harry, _Remus_ ) to step back from the weapon that Frank held on him and bring his hand up to drag it down his face. “Merlin, shut _up_ , Sirius,” he mumbled through his fingers. He dropped his hand and looked at Harry, sending him a shaky smile. “I thought I smelled my cub when you walked in. I’m sorry that we rushed over here, but, you see, we have been looking for you for _years_.”

Harry blinked rapidly at that information and felt Frank’s boot lightly tap against his with their signal that it was fine for them to lower their weapons. He lowered them, but he sure as _hell_ wasn’t going to put them away.

The last man, Severus, merely stared at Harry with widened eyes, like he held the answers to all of life's questions. It kind of made Harry’s skin crawl. “You see something you like, old man?” Harry leered at him.

Frank cuffed him upside the head with the butt of his gun. “Shut up and behave, kid,” he growled out.

“Hey! Don’t hit my pup!” Sirius shouted, holding a stick and advancing on Frank.

Harry groaned. This was turning into a clusterfuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warnings** : Canon typical threats of gun and knife violence.
> 
> Movies Quoted/Referenced:  
> 
> 
>   1. Sid and Nancy (1986)
>   2. The Hitcher (1986)
> 



	16. On Finally Hearing the Will(s)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry, Frank, and the others calm down enough to hear the will… then find out truths that make them lose their calm altogether.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy! Thanks, as always, for the kudos/support of my (apparently, turning into a longer tale than I thought) story.

_Harry groaned. This was turning into a clusterfuck._

**\--- August, 1996 (Sixteen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Gringotts ---**

Frank had pulled him back when he planted his body in front of Sirius, blocking any attack on Frank. He _hated_ when anyone said or did anything bad to Frank. He’d fight the _whole goddamn world_ for Frank. Just try him.

But he didn’t need to fight the whole world. Frank pulled him to the side of the room and brought their foreheads close together while the other five in the room stayed on the other side.

“Look, kid, apparently these guys are some sort of family to you. They’re only flippin’ their shit because they haven’t seen you in years. You need to calm _your_ shit down and listen to this Ragnok guy so that you can get some real answers. You want that, right? You want answers about all of this? That’s why we came here, right?” Frank asked in a low tone.

Harry nodded petulantly and let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, but…”

“No buts. Sit there. Shut up. Listen,” Frank ordered, almost kindly. “You can’t learn anything if you’re gonna keep goin’ off on these guys. I’ve got your six. There’s _no_ way I’m letting anything happen to _my_ kid… ever. No matter who these guys say they are. Got that?”

Shrugging, Harry dipped his head, “This whole thing is just weirding me out, Frank. Did you see how they looked at me? Like I was something that they wanted to steal away from you and keep? These guys were looking for me for _years_ , they said. And, I mean, if that’s really true, then why didn’t they come get me earlier, when I was gettin’ starved or gettin’ the shit beaten out of me on the regular? Why didn’t they care back then? And they look at me like I’m supposed to give a shit now? It’s just freakin’ me out a little.”

Frank gave his shoulder a slight squeeze and said with a straight face but a small amused glint in his eye, “Don't know those answers. But we might learn some if you sit down and we let Ragnok talk. Remember, kid, it’s ok to lose to opponent. It’s never ok to lose to fear.”

Giggling, Harry lightly kicked Frank in the shin. “Ok, ok, Mr. Miyagi. I guess I’m ready. Let’s get this over with.”

They walked back over to the chairs and Harry sat in the one that was left standing, leaving the kicked over chair as a separator between himself and the other men in the room. Frank took up his position behind Harry again, placing one hand on his shoulder. 

Sirius and Remus kept peeking over at Harry, and he could tell that they wanted him to acknowledge them somehow. Snape kept his face devoid of emotion, but his eyes kept stealing glances Harry’s way. Tom, seemingly as arrogant as Harry had clocked him, just sat there regally, waiting for the reading to continue.

Ragnok looked out at them and huffed in annoyance. “Interpersonal conversations are to occur _after_ the reading of the wills. Gringotts does not care about the relationships of humans and expects them to keep all emotional outbursts to a minimum." He glared at each of them in turn, "May I continue now?”

Harry grunted a yes while the other four men nodded. Frank did and said nothing, remaining a silent presence at Harry’s back. (Harry would have been shocked if Frank _had_ said or done anything. That just wasn't Frank's style.)

“Well then, now that we have all formally met, let us proceed with the reading of the will. This situation is a little abnormal, as the original wills were sealed by Wizengamot. However, it was discovered that the Potters made later wills that were _not_ sealed, and these are the ones we will read now, as they render any other will obsolete.” He looked out at the gentlemen (and Harry and Frank – because _no one_ would consider them gentlemen) to see if they had grasped what he had just said.

Three heads nodded, one dipped slightly, and Harry and Frank just grunted lightly in unison. (Like father, like son!)

“Good, first let us start with the reading of the will of James Fleamont Potter, Lord of the House of Potter:

** _Last Will and Testament of Lord James Fleamont Potter_ **

_I, James Fleamont Potter, being of sound mind, not acting under any duress or undue influence, and fully understanding the nature and extent of all my properties, both monetary and physical, do hereby make and declare this document to be my Last Will and Testament. I hereby revoke any and all other wills heretofore made by me._

_I nominate and appoint Lord Sirius Orion Black, Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, as Personal Representative of my estate. If Lord Sirius Orion Black fails or ceases to so serve, then I nominate Severus Tobias Snape to serve. (I would like to interject that Lily Jean Potter née Evans suggested the second choice ‘strongly’, yet I was not considered ‘under duress’.)_

_I devise and bequeath my property, both real and personal and wherever situated, as follows:_

_To my wife, Lily Jean Potter née Evans, I bequeath the entirety of my estate with the exceptions listed below._

  1. _To Lord Sirius Orion Black, I bequeath the original Book of Marauder’s Pranks as well as any other spells and jinxes that have been developed after the creation of this will._
  2. _To Remus John Lupin, I bequeath the Marauder’s Map (not sure how I became the holder of all of this stuff, guys, but you are the ones who deserve it)_
  3. _To Severus Tobias Snape, I bet you thought I would forget you. I bequeath you a copy of the Book of Marauder’s Pranks. You deserve it after all we’ve put you through. Besides, you’ll need it to defend yourself from Padfoot and Moony now that I’m gone._
  4. _Finally, to my son, Harry James Potter, I bequeath a trust vault (in addition to his school vault) so that he might enjoy his life before he has to take on the mantle of Lord of the House of Potter. I also bequeath my invisibility cloak that has been in our family for generations. (Ask your mum or Uncle Padfoot, they’ll tell you all about it.)_



_Finally, son, I bequeath you the following explanation of the reasons behind my death, if this will is being read when I think it is:_

_Your mother and I love you, son. We knew that getting involved with Albus Dumbledore was a gamble, especially when we noticed that some of the things he was doing were not as benevolent or good as he was pretending. He was trying to turn us against Uncle Moony, trying to prove that Uncle Padfoot was evil. He went to any length to keep his seats in the Ministry and push through his ridiculous and prejudiced ideals in the Wizengamot._

_We were losing the battle, but we didn’t even know what battle we were fighting, son. When the prophecy came out about a boy who was born on the same night as you, Dumbledore forced us, through guilt and manipulation, to hide away behind our wards. He even placed a fidelus charm on the house and made it so that only he could bring people into our home. We were prisoners with too much time to think. And while we were thinking, we reached out to the Dark Lord with our concerns and questions. He explained his stance on certain things in the wizarding world. He seemed like a much better choice to follow during the war than Dumbledore._

_But, son, as I sit in my office and write this, I fear that Dumbledore has learned of my communication with the Dark Lord. I am not sure as to the extent of Dumbledore’s contacts and spies. We have been careful, but apparently not enough. So, this is what I bequeath to you, my son… the truth. We are not light, we are not dark. We are gray, and that is not good enough for Dumbledore and his light forces. There have been many wrongs done in the name of the light… too many to list here. I fear that if something has happened, it was at his hand, or the hands of the 'light'._

_I will leave you with this advice, trust yourself first. Moony, Padfoot, Severus and even the Dark Lord will look out for you better than Dumbledore ever would. Don’t trust him, son. Just stay away._

_With love,_

_Your father, James F. Potter_

_In the case of the untimely death of both myself and my wife, Lily Jean Potter née Evans, the following individuals are tasked to take guardianship, both physical and magical, of one Harry James Potter, until his majority when he is able to inherit in totality and take on his role as Lord of the House of Potter, as they have already agreed to do so._

  1. _Lord Sirius Orion Black, Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black_
  2. _Severus Tobias Snape, Professor, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_
  3. _Tom Marvolo Riddle, the Dark Lord Voldemort, Heir of Slytherin_



_Moony – I would have listed you first, but there’s no way that anyone would let you have Harry with their stupid werewolf prejudice, even though you are pretty much the most responsible out of all of us. (Sorry Pads, you’re amazing, but Lily’s right about you being a little crazy.)_

_Take care of my son together. Keep him from harm and guard him from anything that may happen regarding the prophecy. Keep him away from Albus Dumbledore. And for the love of Merlin’s soggy breeches, (Lily is yelling at me for writing that) keep my son away from Lily’s relatives. Petunia is a cow and hates everything about our family. There is no telling how badly she would treat Harry._

_I’ll be waiting to see you all again, and planning the ultimate pranks for when we reunite._

_~Prongs_

Silence.

Not one person said a word as Ragnok finished reading James Potter’s will. Harry felt his heart catch in his throat and his hands gripped his knife and gun until his knuckles were white. Sweat started to bead on his brow. His vision had tunneled, and his breaths had started to come quick. His head felt light and fuzzy and he started to sway in his chair. He didn’t know what was happening to him. This had never happened before, even on fucked up ops where he was separated from Frank. _He_ had even been interrogated ‘under duress’ a couple times, but he kept his shit together then. What the fuck was happening to him now??

As he stared straight ahead in shock, he noticed Frank’s face come into view. Large hands came up to hold either side of his head in a comforting grip. “Grab my hand, kid. I’m here. You’re fine. It’s a panic attack. You’ve never had one before, but you’ll be fine. Give me your other hand too,” he said as he pried Harry’s fingers loose from his weapons. He held one hand and took the other and placed it over his Punisher logo. “Breathe with me. In and out. Wax on, wax off, kid. Come on. You’re ok. You’re good. I've got you. I'm not goin' anywhere. You're good.”

Harry listened to Franks gruff voice as he gave instructions and felt his body calm down. Embarrassment flooded his cheeks as he looked to the others in the room to see how they were faring. It seemed that Sirius, Remus and Severus were sitting there in almost as much disbelief as he was. Tom, although still imperially sitting there after the disclosure of the contents of the will, also seemed to have his mouth slightly opened in surprise.

So, it wasn’t just Harry feeling the bombshell. _No one_ had known the extent of what was in James Potter’s will.

Harry eventually settled down, with Frank’s help, and was finally able to get a regular breathing pattern. Frank squeezed both shoulders and patted Harry’s head before standing up and walking back to his self-appointed post behind Harry’s chair. 

To his left, Sirius let out a harsh, watery breath. “Merlin… _Prongs_ … he knew what was going to happen.” He looked to his left at Remus, “He _knew_ , Moony, and he didn’t even let on.” Quickly shifting his attention to Tom, he pointed an accusing finger. “Did _you_ know?? Did you know that Prongs and Lily-flower were in that much danger from the old bastard?”

Tom looked at him an inclined his head, “I was aware that things were taking a turn for the worse and measures were going to have to be taken soon to give them aid, but I was not aware the extent of what Lord Potter already knew. We had only just started our negotiations regarding where they would go if they came over to join me. I had already agreed to help the boy,” Tom explained. (Harry still shuddered at the use of that word regarding him.) Tom looked at the other men in the room, including Harry in his gaze, “I apologize for not moving faster to get them out of that situation.”

Remus growled low in his throat, “No, we will not blame you. _You_ were not the one to fire the spells. _You_ were not the one who stole Harry from us. We will put the blame where blame is deserved… Dumbledore.” He bared his teeth that were quickly growing into fangs as he snarled out his fury. (Fangs!!!)

Before Harry had a chance to ask any of the men what they knew about the night of his parents’ deaths (apparently _not in a fuckin’ car crash_ ), Ragnok interrupted again.

“Again, I will remind you that this _emotional_ discussion needs to wait until all matters of business have been taken care of.” He shuffled the paperwork on his desk and brought up the next piece of parchment. “The next item to discuss is the will of Lily Jean Potter née Evans. If you will remain quiet, I will begin the reading,”

**_Last Will and Testament of Lily Jean Potter née Evans_ **

_I, Lily Jean Potter née Evans, being of sound mind, not acting under any duress or undue influence, and fully understanding the nature and extent of all my properties, both monetary and physical, do hereby make and declare this document to be my Last Will and Testament. I hereby revoke any and all other wills heretofore made by me._

_I nominate and appoint Severus Tobias Snape, Professor, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as Personal Representative of my estate. If Severus Tobias Snape fails or ceases to so serve, then I nominate Lord Sirius Orion Black to serve._

_I devise and bequeath my property, both real and personal and wherever situated, as follows:_

_To my husband, James Fleamont Potter, Lord of the House of Potter, I bequeath the entirety of my estate with the exceptions listed below:_

  1. _To Severus Tobias Snape, I bequeath all potions books and ingredients that he desires to take from my extensive collection. Sev, you have been and always will be my best friend. Thank you. I know this is not enough to ever repay you for your loyalty and friendship._
  2. _To Remus John Lupin, I bequeath all my books on charms. You’re the one who really made the Marauder’s Map happen, Moony. (Although it has caused many irritations in my life, it is a beautiful piece of charm work.)_
  3. _To Lord Sirius Orion Black, I bequeath a copy of the muggle book, The Joke Book._(1) _You have always been the silliest of us all. Use it to make people laugh._
  4. _Finally, to my son, Harry James Potter, I bequeath the Evans trust vault, minus anything that has been previously bequeathed from within._



_In the case of the untimely death of both myself and my husband, James Fleamont Potter, Lord of the House of Potter, the following individuals are tasked to take guardianship, both physical and magical, of one Harry James Potter, until his majority when he is able to inherit in totality and take on his role as Lord of the House of Potter, as they have already agreed to do so._

  1. _Lord Sirius Orion Black, Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black_
  2. _Severus Tobias Snape, Professor, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_
  3. _Tom Marvolo Riddle, the Dark Lord Voldemort, Heir of Slytherin_



_Sev, James and I went round and round as to who would be first pick for guardianship, but ultimately, you have too many ties to Dumbledore at the moment. I want to keep Harry as far away from that horrible man as I can. We still (yes, we \- James included) very much want you involved in the raising of Harry. Work together with Sirius, and Remus – who will no doubt be very involved as well. Raise my boy well. Don’t let him go to my family or to Dumbledore. They do not have his best interests at heart. They will hurt and manipulate him. I am trusting you all to keep him safe and happy. To love him and protect him._

_Finally,_

_Harry, my sweet baby boy,_

_If both of us are gone, then you have probably already heard your father’s explanation of what might have happened. Just know that we love you and always will. We are so very sorry that you were in the middle of this. Make sure to surround yourself with people who have your best interests at heart. Stay away from people like Albus Dumbledore, who only look out for themselves and will do anything to get their way._

_Always remember you are loved and cherished_

_Love you,_

_Mum_

Before anyone could react to the will of his mother, Ragnok quickly pressed forward. “Right, well now that we have had the wills read, the matter of the vaults comes into question. Apparently there have been some… discrepancies.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1. The Joke Book, Oscar Weigle, _pub. 1963_
> 
> Movies Quoted/Referenced:  
> 
> 
>   1. The Karate Kid (1984)
> 



	17. On Thieves of the Worst Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More infractions come to light, and tentative truces are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning and happy Wednesday 😊 You guys make me smile with your comments and such. I love hearing what you're thinking as this tale comes to life, and I love the predictions. :) Enjoy this chapter!

_Apparently there have been some… discrepancies._

**\--- August, 1996 (Sixteen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Gringotts ---**

“According to the current Wizengamot charter, all seats for a house that is not currently controlled by a Lord who has reached majority must be considered as vassal or cadet. These are given, in proxy, to a representative who will vote at Wizengamot in accordance with the house’s magical inclination. The Potter House had historically voted light, however, according to the legal documents, including these wills, filed by Lord James Fleamont Potter on the 20th of October, 1981, the house’s allegiance _should_ have been moved to the gray or dark vote, depending on the matter brought before Wizengamot.” 

Ragnok paused and tapped a clawed fingernail on his desk, “Although Gringotts, as a whole, _does not_ admit to any wrongdoing in this situation, we do accept that there were… certain employees who disregarded the requests and wishes of their clients.” He flashed a vicious sneer out into the room. “As the director of this branch of Gringotts, let me assure you, those individuals are no longer gainfully employed with the bank.” (Harry got the feeling that those employees were no longer _gainfully employed_ with the _living_. Not that he wouldn’t have done the same thing in that situation.)

Looking back down at the parchments in front of him, Ragnok continued, “According to these records, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot was the one to seal the original wills of the Potters. He declared himself as the ‘magical guardian’ of one Harry James Potter and took him into custody with the approval of the heretofore mentioned employees. Although it is not recorded if this guardianship included physical guardianship, I can only assume, from these proceedings, that it did not.”

Harry grumbled under his breath, “No, it fuckin’ _didn’t_.”

Ragnok shot him a baleful glare, presumably for the interruption, and persisted. “These votes have been used by one Albus Dumbledore illegally, however the statute of limitations on declaring a misvote has passed on most of them. I would suggest that a legal proxy be declared posthaste so that the Potter House vote may be realigned with the previous Lord’s wishes, until the heir reaches his majority and is able to take his rightful place in Wizengamot.” 

Tom and the other men nodded in understanding as Ragnok spouted his legal drivel. Harry, more confused than ever, spared Frank a questioning glance. Frank leaned down and whispered in his ear, “They’re dealin’ with the wizarding version of the Senate and Congress. You know how that works. Just think of it that way and it will help you wrap your head around it.” Harry hummed in comprehension then turned to give Ragnok his whole attention again.

“Now, to the manner of the trust vaults. I do believe this is what may cause the most… issue regarding Mr. Harry James Potter. As Albus Dumbledore was declared his magical and, potentially, physical guardian, albeit illegally, he was granted access to the trusts given to the minor child.”

Harry felt Frank shift slightly and grumble behind him when the subject of money came up. “Fuckin’ thief, I bet,” he predicted lowly. 

Now, Harry and Frank had never wanted for _anything_ and always had enough disposable income for new weapons, gear, safehouses… basically whatever they wanted. Frank _always_ made sure they were taken care of. Harry didn’t really care about how little or much money his birth parents left him. He had a good life with Frank. But he _did_ care about thieves and criminals. He cared even more that this situation was so messed up, and that he had _obviously_ been fucked over by this Dumblefuck guy.

The other men in the room tensed visibly when the mention of possible misuse of trust funds was presented. Evidently, _no one_ likes a thief, Harry thought spitefully.

“Yes, well, although there might be one or two calculations in the sickles and knuts that have been lost over the passage of the past 14 years and 8 months, we believe that the galleon balance is 100% correct as of today.” Ragnok shook his head minutely. Apparently that was as much frustration as he would allow himself to show regarding the issue of misuse of funds at this time. (Although, Harry considered, since those employees who caused the issue in the first place were probably dead by now, that might mean this Ragnok guy really _did_ hide a seriously bloodthirsty side. If he ever stopped being a strict, stuffed shirt, legal-speaking goblin, they might just get along.)

“The following vaults were to be given, in trust, to one Harry James Potter, upon the death of his parents, Lord James Fleamont Potter and Lily Jean Potter née Evans:

  1. School Vault for Attendance to: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
To Be Used Only for School Tuition and Supplies  
_Initial Balance:_ 50,000g  
_Current Balance:_ 50,000g
  2. Potter Trust Vault  
Monthly Withdrawal Limit: 4,000g  
_Initial Balance:_ 750,000g  
_Current Balance:_ 51,073g 157s 84k
  3. Evans Trust Vault  
Monthly Withdrawal Limit: 200g  
_Initial Balance:_ 50,000g  
_Current Balance:_ 15,481g 95s 8k



Upon reaching his majority at age seventeen, Harry James Potter is to inherit the Lordship and the totality of the Potter Estate, both physical and monetary, currently valued at 24,067,175g 143s 21k.”

Tom sucked in a small breath and shook his head. “Disregarding the obviously monstrous amount that Dumbledore took from your accounts, Mr. Potter, you are set up to be _very_ well off in a year.”

Sirius whistled lowly in agreement then said playfully, “Yes, and it’s a good thing that they included the 21k in the total value of your inheritance. That makes _all_ the difference in your fortune.”

Harry gaped at him. “Was that a _joke??_ Are you _seriously_ making a joke right now?”

“Well…,” he grinned at Harry mischievously, “ _I’m_ Siri…”

Harry gripped his knife tight and bared his teeth at the man. “Finish it… fuckin’ finish that sentence, asshole, and I’ll show you how serious _I_ can be.” Frank lightly nudged his shoulder to keep him calm, but he was too angry to stop his rant right then. “I have _no idea_ what a galleon, knut, sickle or anything else that Ragnok has said means. I _just_ found out that my birth parents were apparently _murdered_. They didn't die in a 'car accident', like I was always told. And they left me a ton of money, I’m assuming, for someone to raise me with. Which I never saw. Ever. I lived in a fuckin’ cupboard for the first seven years of my life! I didn’t even have _my own clothes_ until Frank came and got me. In fact, Frank is the _only_ reason I’m alive and sane. So, _please_ , shut the fuck up and let me get some answers about what really happened to fuck up my life, and who I need to go kill.”

Frank gripped one of his shoulders, fingers digging in almost hard enough to bruise, and spun him away from glaring at Sirius. He met Frank’s frown and saw the even glare of Frank's blue eyes meeting his. Frank dropped his voice to his low gravely tone, presumably so that no one else in the room could overhear what was being said. “Kid, you need to calm down. Right fuckin’ now. I didn’t raise you to freak out at every little thing. I raised you to recon and get the fuckin’ information first. This isn’t you. You know to regulate your breathing and assess the situation. Just like how you would before a black op. I know you’re all stressed right now, but you flippin’ out is not solvin’ _anything_. We talked about this earlier. Calm yourself down. Get your shit together. Sit here and listen so you can get some frickin’ answers.”

Harry took in a deep shuddering breath and exhaled through his nose. He hung his head in shame and brought up his hand to grip Frank’s wrist. “Sorry, Frank. I’ll do better. It’s just…”

Frank shook him slightly so that Harry would meet his eyes again. “You’re fine, kid. I’m here. Just calm your shit.”

Across from them, the other occupants of the room were watching the interplay with undisclosed interest. Remus cleared his throat and said, “You have an… interesting parenting technique, Mr. Castle.”

Harry raised his head from looking at Frank to meet Remus’ gaze, surprised that the man had heard anything that Frank had said. He bared his teeth in a mockery of a smile at Remus this time. “He has the _best_ parenting technique.”

Frank snorted and ruffled Harry’s hair.

Sirius, Severus and Remus watched the two of them dubiously, while Tom smirked at Harry. 

“Mr. Potter, I have a feeling that once we get a few things out in the open, you and I will get along quite well,” Tom said smoothly.

Harry just rolled his eyes. “Yeah, ok.”

Ragnok, apparently annoyed at the ‘emotional outburst’ of the humans, grunted into the room. “I have not finished. Please, no more interruptions. This issue is taking up my time and, in turn, I am losing money. Do not make me regret dealing with this issue personally.”

Harry and Frank both mumbled an apology while Tom, who seemed to be the others’ spokesperson, silkily apologized to the goblin.

Continuing with the last of the legal issues, Ragnok said, “Albus Dumbledore has withdrawn the maximum allowable amount from these vaults for the past 175 months, on the 1st of each month, starting the 1st of November, 1981.”

Severus sucked in a shocked breath and opened his mouth to speak.

“No more interruptions!” Ragnok yelled, banging his fist on his desk. “I _will_ have silence! We _will_ finish this, and then you _will_ leave. I will not tolerate any more insolence. You lot have taken up _enough_ of my valuable time and patience!” He grabbed the parchment in front of him and began to read again. “These withdrawals have been allocated to the following vaults and/or recipients:

  1. Dumbledore Personal Vault:  
_Total Transfer to Date:_ 561,600g
  2. Order of the Phoenix Vault:  
_Total Transfer to Date:_ 87,500g
  3. Figg Personal Vault:  
_Total Transfer to Date:_ 17,500g
  4. Dursley Family:  
Galleons Exchanged for Pounds  
_Total Transfer to Date:_ 28,400g  
_Recurring transfer cancelled September 1987 – reverted to Dumbledore vault._
  5. Weasley Family Vault:  
_Total Transfer to Date:_ 35,000g
  6. Sybil Trelawney  
_One Time Transfer:_ 5,000g



I am assuming, based on your current facial expressions and previous outbursts that you would like these transactions to cease. If that is the case, I can process those today.”

Harry started to speak, but was interrupted by Frank, “Let’s maybe hold off on cancelling the money right now, kid. Don’t let anyone know you’re on to them, remember?”

Harry frowned for a moment then realized he was right. Smirking at Frank, Harry nodded in agreement. “Yep. Watch ‘em, record the evidence, catch ‘em with their pants around their ankles, ‘n kill ‘em, right?”

Tom coughed incredulously at Harry’s statement. He looked over to where Harry was talking to Frank and smiled slowly, “You are a _positively intriguing_ child.”

Glaring back at him, Harry stuck his tongue out. “Not a _child_.”

Frank lightly smacked Harry’s head and rolled his eyes at him. “You’re not really proving that right now, kid.”

“ _SILENCE!_ ” Ragnok bellowed into the room, causing everyone to swing back to face him in shock. “Good. Now, since you do not desire to end these transactions, we will continue them, with your legal approval. The accounts will be annotated that you may wish to cancel them at a future time, as is your prerogative. Since the historical transactions were considered ‘legal’ in the eyes of Gringotts, however, there is no way to get restitution for the loss of any monies from your vaults.”

Harry's mouth formed a malicious grin and he snarled out savagely, “That’s fine. Don’t need any money. They’ll pay in other ways, like blood.”

Ragnok nodded in vague approval. Apparently threats of bloody vengeance are completely acceptable in the goblin world.

“Lastly, a _legal_ magical and physical guardian must be established for voting proxy for the House of Potter and the welfare of Mr. Harry James Potter,” Ragnok droned.

“Oh _HELL_ no! No one… and I mean fuckin' _NO ONE_ is takin’ me from Frank!” Harry scrabbled quickly out of his chair and crowded close to Frank’s side. Frank brought his arm around Harry’s shoulders and squeezed him into a reassuring side hug. They weren’t the most demonstrative ‘family’ (Harry had probably only received fifteen or twenty hugs _in his life_ from Frank – most when he was returned from being captured or when had he finally perfected a weapon) but when Harry needed it, Frank was there to comfort him.

“ _Sit down_ , Mr. Potter. As of right now Gringotts merely needs to get a name on the record for legal reasons. This is for your own benefit. According to the paperwork submitted earlier, Mr. Castle has been proven and accepted as your physical guardian, even in the magical world. However, you will need a magical guardian and proxy voter for Wizengamot.”

Harry felt lost. His life was so easy before he walked through that hole. Now, he had to get some legal magical guardian in this world. Part of him felt like he and Frank should just run… disappear again like they had when he was seven. The other part, the bloodthirsty and vengeful part, wanted to stay and make those who wronged him _pay_. 

That part won out.

“Ok, so I have to have a magical guardian and it can’t be Frank. But Frank can still be my dad?” Harry asked Ragnok.

Ragnok gave him a nod and Harry bolstered himself for his decision. “Ok, well then, I guess I’ll take the Tom guy as my magical guardian. He seems like someone who would be able to understand the voting, and I know he’s pretty strong with his magic, from how he tried to use it before. So, he’s got that going for him. Also…” Harry glanced up at Frank and continued, “his attitude kind of reminds me of Stark. So, he’s probably pretty good at business and money and the like. He’d be able to help me with my accounts, and maybe help me learn what I need to do.”

Frank nodded his approval at his choice.

Tom lifted one brow, dipped his head in acceptance of Harry's choice, and smiled.

Ragnok stamped some parchments and pushed them toward the edge of his desk. “I will need one drop of blood on each of these documents to approve all of the changes discussed. Each of the parties relevant to the documents will receive copies. Mr. Castle, as a muggle you are not required to sign in blood, however the option is open to you, should you choose to do so. Once all of the documents are signed, they will be filed, and our business will be concluded.” 

Harry slit his thumb with his knife again, and dabbed a drop of blood on each of the presented documents. Frank followed suit.

Tom murmured _diffindo_ under his breath, pointing his wand at his finger. A small cut opened and dropped his blood on the parchments. He then closed the cut with a quick _episkey_. Harry thought it was kind of funny how they had to say things out loud to do their magic, but it was cool to hear the words.

Nodding, Ragnok gathered all of the papers. “It has not been a pleasure, but it has been business. Griphook will see you out. Owl me if any changes need to be made to the Potter accounts, as I will be the one in charge of them for the foreseeable future.” He inclined his head, turned and walked out of the will reading room the way that Harry and Frank had come in, without waiting for a response.

Sirius clapped his hands and turned to Harry. “Pup, I know that we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot here. Merlin knows what you must be going through right now. But, if you and your… dad would like to, we can have some dinner at Grimmauld Place.”

Harry turned to face Frank and mouthed ‘Grimmauld Place’ at him, a little disbelieving. He looked back at Sirius skeptically, “I’m not whoever you think I am, just so you know. I’m Frank’s kid. I don’t know what you think I remember, but I can assure you… I don’t.”

Frank growled a quiet “Kid…” in warning.

Harry shook his head. “No, I’m not tryin’ to be a jerk. I’m just letting them know up front, Frank. I’ll agree to go and talk, ‘cus I think that we all need to talk. I, for one, need some more information on this asshole, or these assholes as the case may be, who need me to find ‘em and put them out of my misery.”

Tom spoke up then, “Mr. Potter, Mr. Castle, I would like to extend to you the invitation to dine at Malfoy Manor. It is a neutral space for everyone, I believe, as it is where I currently hold my meetings. It is the residence of my second in command, Lord Lucius Malfoy.”

Burying his face in his hand, Harry mumbled, “I’m gonna need to learn manners for all of these lords ‘n shit, aren’t I, Frank?”

Sirius barked out a laugh while Frank just curled his lips into a half-smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to point out that Harry is 16 at this point in his life. 16-year-old boys are _very_ moody (I know, I had 4 of them) and if Harry was under this amount of stress, I can only imagine how much trouble he would have keeping his aggressive/violent streak in check. He was, after all, raised as a child soldier. He’s just a little stressed right now.


	18. On Discussing the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Frank attend a dinner meeting at Malfoy Manor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a wee bit dialogue heavy due to the backstory explanation and such. But I tried to keep the length in there, at least. Enjoy!

_Sirius barked out a laugh while Frank just curled his lips into a half-smile._

**\--- August, 1996 (Sixteen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Malfoy Manor ---**

Harry and Frank followed the four other men into the hallway of the manor, after being ‘keyed to the wards’. Harry understood that, kind of. The hallway was opulent, and way over decorated for Harry’s taste. He nudged Frank with his elbow and whispered, “Think of all the gear we could get if we sold off some of this stuff.” 

Frank just shoved him slightly, in reprimand. 

Walking down the hallway toward their group was a tall, aristocratic man with glimmering platinum blond hair. It resembled the style that Alexander Godunov had sported in Die Hard. (God, Harry _loved_ that movie. It was Wade and his favorite Christmas movie ever!) He was dressed in black robes, much like the four who had been at the will reading, and walked with an ornate cane. (Didn’t seem like he _needed_ the cane, though.)

He came to a stop in front of their group, faced Tom and bowed lowly. “My Lord.”

Harry sighed internally. He was _not_ the type to bow to anyone. He hoped that he wasn’t going to be expected to do that in this world. He was more the 'hit someone over the head, force them to their knees and make _them_ beg for mercy - before killing them' type of person. He didn’t think he had bowed to _anyone_ besides his martial arts trainers. And Tom, well he didn’t seem much like any Sensei, Sifu, Kru or Arjan that Harry had ever seen. In fact, he doubted that Tom would last one round with either Frank or him in hand-to-hand combat. He could be wrong... he probably wasn’t.

“I have set the main dining room aside for our meeting, my Lord. The elves ( _elves???_ ) have made an evening meal and the rest of the manor has been informed to dine elsewhere,” the man said silkily. 

Tom waved his hand in vague acknowledgement. “Very good Lucius. Please meet your guests, Mr. Harry Potter and his father, Mr. Francis Castle.”

Frank pinched his lips and grumbled at the use of his full name. “It's Frank… _nobody_ calls me Francis.”

Harry snickered behind his hand.

Tom spared them both a glance, “I apologize Mr. Castle. I will endeavor to remember your wishes.”

Harry curled his lip in scorn. Tom really was _extra_. Lucius looked at Harry with slightly widened eyes before his mask of indifference fell over his face again. He moved his gaze over to Frank, and Harry saw his nose wrinkle a little, as if he smelled something on the heel of one of their shoes. Harry took a subtle sniff and glanced down at the soles of his boots. Nothing he could smell or see. He wondered why this Lucius guy had that reaction.

As they continued walking, Harry studied the manor with curiosity. He should be scanning for the entrances, exits, and potential threats – he wasn’t. It was just too interesting to be in this place, and this day had been totally overwhelming already. Besides, Frank was here and had his six. And, if Harry was sure of one thing in his short life, Frank would _always_ figure out the threats in every situation that he and Harry were going into. He’d send a signal if they needed to fight or run. So, Harry breathed a little easier and just absorbed the sensory overload that was Malfoy Manor.

Lucius led them all into the dining room where there was a long table set with elaborate place settings, shining golden candelabras, and what looked like more food than Harry had seen in one place since having dinner at Professor X’s school that one Thanksgiving Logan needed company so he didn’t kill Scott. Harry glanced around, counting the members in the room. There was _no way_ this food could just be for the six of them… seven if Lucius stayed.

Tom gestured for everyone to take a seat in the regal, high backed chairs. He, of course, took the seat at the head of the table. “I am assuming that no one here has an issue with including Lucius in this discussion. He is, after all, kindly offering up his table for our discussion, and he is one of my most trusted and valuable followers.”

Raising his eyebrows at Tom’s pretentious speech, Harry huffed out a disbelieving laugh. He gave a lazy wave of acceptance. “Yeah, whatever, I’ve got no issues with it.” He glanced over at Frank, who hadn’t said anything, but was studying the new addition to their group with an expressionless face. (Harry _knew_ Frank was reading what kind of man Lucius was, based on his stance and slightly tense shoulders. Only one who really understood Frank would be able to read these signs.)

Frank slowly inclined his head in agreement and clipped out a short, “Fine.”

Lucius, who had let his impassive mask falter slightly under Frank’s intense scrutiny, rallied quickly and the blank look fell once more. He took the seat at Tom’s right hand side. Severus sat next to him, then Remus.

To the left of Tom, Harry took the first position, then Frank, and finally Sirius sat across from Remus. Frank and Harry were the last to actually sit, first ensuring that no surprises were going to occur from the other occupants in the room.

Tom smirked knowingly at their reluctance to relax. “Now that we have heard the contents of the wills of your parents, Mr. Potter, I do believe we need to make a plan for how you want to proceed.” Tom handed the copies of the parchments that Ragnok had provided to Lucius, who began to read them immediately. His facial expression did not change, however Harry noticed some widening and narrowing of his eyes when he reached certain areas that caused obvious shock or anger.

“Yeeeaah," Harry drawled, "you guys should just call me Harry, or Scourge, if you feel like it. Pretty much only Dr. Strange and Professor X call me Mr. Potter. It makes me feel like I’m gonna get in trouble, or somethin’.” he insisted. Frank chuckled under his breath.

Remus and Sirius sent him amused smiles, and Severus, who Harry hadn’t had much interaction with, fixed him with an inquisitive stare. 

“Why Scourge, Harry?” Severus asked smoothly. He shifted his dark eyes to Frank and then back to Harry. “For that matter, what happened to you that night in 1987, and how did you end up with Mr. Castle as a ‘father’?”

Harry bristled at the implication that Frank wasn’t his real dad. Logically he _knew_ that, but he was the only father figure that Harry had ever known. Chewing on his thumbnail, he considered those sitting around the table. He figured these guys didn’t know his whole situation and history yet. Frank had said to keep calm, so that’s what he was going to do.

He peeked over at Frank – who sat there, silently, with a blank stare, his arms crossed over his chest. He was going to be no help with telling Harry what he should do or say, as usual. (Frank always _had_ believed that Harry should make his own choices and deal with the consequences, good _or_ bad. He really only interceded when Harry ran off into… _iffy situations_ with Wade.) Seeing as he would be no help with choosing what Harry disclosed in this conversation, Harry decided to tell most of his story. He wouldn’t compromise anything about Frank’s backstory or their associates' lives, but he would at least give them the Disney-esque, glossed over story of his life so far. He figured that these guys would need to at least know what had happened to him so that they could share what _should_ have happened. (From their point of view.) Look at Harry go, being all adult ‘n logical ‘n shit. Frank would be so proud of him when he realized that Harry had learned the value of sharing information.

He started with telling them about that week in September 1987, smiling at the memory of meeting Frank in the library and discussing revenge. He glossed over the years before he had met Frank, sharing tidbits of his life with the Dursleys. These guys didn't need to know the whole sordid tale. Harry got the impression that they knew more than they were letting on anyway.

Then he moved on to the night when he was rescued from the Dursleys, not really mentioning the deaths, instead focusing more on the leaving part.

_“You saved some of your mother’s things?” Severus asked tentatively._

_Harry cocked his head in slight confusion, “Yeah, I mean, I didn’t know her or anything. From what I was told back then, she was a drunk whore who got into a car accident with a man who may or may not have been my biological father. But it was her stuff. It was the only tie to any of my old family, and I wanted to keep it. I still have it back at one of our main houses in the States. It’s really just a couple of old books, a carved stick (probably her wand or something) and a pin shaped like a lily. If this works out, I'm cool with you looking at it or whatever.”_

_Harry could have heard a pin drop at that statement. Besides Frank, who already knew all of this, the other men in the room were gaping at his words. Severus looked white as a sheet and a sheen of tears had formed in Remus' eyes._

_“Uh, I mean, I later learned she wasn’t really a whore, but still… that’s what I was told my whole life by my Aunt and Uncle. She did write me a letter. Said stuff about my father, the inheritance and a trust, but Frank 'n I could never find any records of anything about that. She also told me that she, uh, loved me… so, yeah, thought I should keep some of her stuff to, you know, remember her by, or somethin'.” Harry cleared his throat in slight embarrassment, not feeling comfortable with all this talk of feelings._

Quickly moving on, he told them about how Frank had taken him from that horrible situation and fixed him up. He told them about their first travels and moving to the States. Frank lifted one corner of his mouth in a wry smile when Harry told them about learning proper fighting techniques and when he got his first set of knives. God, that was a great day. He did tell them about Wade and Logan, just not really describing who they were. Until he was told otherwise, he would just describe them as ‘friends’ who knew a little more than the average person about violent fighting.

He _did not_ describe in detail how he learned first aid or the number of times he was brought in to learn proper interrogation techniques. He also didn’t mention the number of times that _he_ had been in an interrogation under duress. For that matter, he pretty much glossed over the missions and ops that he and Frank went on altogether. These guys didn’t need to know how much he had done in his life. It seemed, however, that no matter how much he skipped over the more… _violent_ parts of his life, the more intrigued Tom became.

_“You seem to have learned a lot from your father, Harry. It seems that you have a very… specific set of talents, especially if what we witnessed earlier today is what you normally do,” Tom observed._

_Harry shot him a cheesy grin. “Frank's great, isn't he?" He asked with gleaming green eyes. "And, yeah, Tom, you might say I have a small bit of knowledge when it comes to combat.” He smirked at Frank, whose eyes had taken on an amused glint._

_Lucius choked out a gasp and blustered, “Tom???”_

_Glancing at him quizzically, Harry asked, “Yeah? That’s his name, isn’t it?”_

_Sirius snorted and Lucius looked apoplectic. Tom merely droned, “Most people do not refer to me as such. But I will allow it with you.”_

_Shaking his head at the man's arrogance, Harry snorted. “Oh ok, oh benevolent Lord. I appreciate that. You and Stark should really get together sometime.” Frank tapped his leg twice to remind him that they were guests at this dinner party and to behave. Harry just crossed his arms and sniffed in annoyance._

Then came the time to tell them about getting his letter to Hogwarts and the ensuing freak out. Sirius laughed in glee when he described the confusion about getting a letter in the middle of a classified mission while Remus and Severus shook their heads in disbelief. (A little of that disbelief was probably due to the fact that he was eleven on a classified black op, but, hey, it was fun.) Lucius had completely lost his mask of indifference at this point and was openly staring with widened eyes. He didn’t mention the extent of Frank’s techniques to figure out where the letter had come from. Tom just sat there with a small knowing smirk, so Harry figured that he might have some sort of clue as to what had happened with Frank afterwards.

He described meeting Dr. Strange and learning his magic.

_“So, you don’t use a wand at all?” Remus asked._

_“Wand? Like in the movies? Nah, I just pull the energy from the world around me, think what I want my magic to do, and it does it. The more difficult stuff takes drawing runes in the air with my hands, but I’m strong enough to just flick my fingers in the shape of the runes instead of having to wave my whole hand. And I'm still in training. Not sure if I want to be a Sorcerer Supreme, even though Dr. Strange says I could definitely be one someday. It’s a lot of work, and you have to start using artifacts 'n shit. Besides, who would be there to hang out with Frank then?” He shot an impish grin at Frank who gave him a small shake of his head in exasperation._

_“You can make your magic do anything?” Tom asked speculatively._

_Harry thought for a moment and shook his head, “Not anything. I mean, I can’t bring back people from the dead or fall in love or anything. I'm not a genie or nothin'. And healing shit is really not my jam. But, like, in a fight it’s pretty awesome. And I can blow stuff up like a motherfucker,” he chortled. _

_Frank dryly interjected for the first time, “Yes, the kid saves us tons on munitions.”_

_Harry cackled._

Harry described learning to use his magic as well as working with Frank. (Nothing specific, of course.) He mentioned Wade, and how he always called Harry Frank’s ‘mini’ before he finally had his growth spurt, thus getting his own code name. Sirius snickered and said that he would probably like this Wade person. Harry thought that they would probably get along. Frank rolled his eyes.

Finally, Harry told them about coming to London a few days ago and his first reactions to Diagon Alley. He smirked at Tom and recounted their first meeting from his point of view.

_“You were invisible? Without a cloak?” Tom looked out at the others around the table then back at Harry. “But there was no magical signature left. No feeling of someone who was disillusioned. Nothing.”_

_Harry shrugged. “Well, yeah, that’s how it’s supposed to be. Invisible means undetectable,” he said slowly, as if he was describing something new to a child._

Ignoring the surprised looks from the others, he pressed on. He told them about the crazy girl who predicted their meeting and _could_ see through his magic. They were shocked that he had encountered a seer.

_“From your description, Harry, that sounds like Ms. Lovegood. She is one of the students that I teach at Hogwarts. Her father owns the Quibbler, a… publication in the wizarding world. It is known that her mother was a seer in her own right. That must have passed on to her daughter. The girl is, as some would say, unique,” Severus explained._

_Harry raised his eyebrows at Severus’ description of the girl. “Yeah, that makes sense. She seemed to know way too much about me for never having met me before. Kind of kooky, but didn’t really come across as a huge threat. I felt confused, more than anything, about the whole interaction after I finally left and got ahold of Frank.”_

_Severus nodded in understanding, “Yes, I can understand how one might feel that way after a first meeting with Ms. Lovegood.”_

“So that brings us to now, really. We did the bank thing and learned about the wills. I learned a ton about my parents, just from that one meeting. I have questions about almost everything, though,” he said. “And I want to know who the fuck this Dumbledore guy is so I can find him and make him suffer… like he made _me_ suffer for the first seven years of my life,” Harry sneered.

The men around the table nodded and Frank reached over and grabbed his shoulder, squeezing it in comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Movies Quoted/Referenced:  
> 
> 
>   1. Die Hard (1988)
>   2. Aladdin (1992 - Disney film)
> 



	19. On Hearing a Prophecy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Frank continue their dinner meeting at Malfoy Manor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, a bit more dialogue heavy here, but also some history about Harry's parents. Thanks, as always for your kudos and comments. 
> 
> **Trigger Warnings** at end of chapter.

_Frank reached over and grabbed his shoulder, squeezing it in comfort._

**\--- August, 1996 (Sixteen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Malfoy Manor ---**

Remus, Sirius and Severus shared a look and then a quick nod. Sirius leaned back and looked sadly at Harry.

“Pup, you first need to know about where your parents came from, before we get into how they died and who caused it all. We want you to know what kind of people they were, so that you can get the whole story,” he said with a sad smile.

He told Harry about three boys who went to Hogwarts together. _The Marauders_ : Prongs, Padfoot and Moony. He reminisced about getting into trouble and making loads of mischief. How they were the thick as thieves. Inseparable. Brothers. He chuckled as he described some of their more elaborate pranks.

_“They were not nearly as humorous as they thought they were,” Severus intoned before looking directly at Sirius, “and it did not help matters any that you had that Merlin damned map. You would drive both Lily and I spare with your dunderheaded ways.”_

_“Map?” Harry questioned._

_“Ah, the Marauder’s Map, cub. A decent bit of charm work that allowed us to see all the secrets of Hogwarts and those who resided within. With that map we were able to track people’s movements and your father and Padfoot were able to plot their pranks,” Remus chucked._

Before he could continue, Harry interrupted. “What’s with the names? Do they mean something? I mean, mine and Frank’s are more for… uh… work purposes. Yours don’t seem to be quite like that,” Harry observed.

Severus muttered a sigh, grumbling about foolish animagi. Sirius sent Harry a mischievous grin. Then… he turned into a frickin’ _dog_! Harry scrabbled back in his chair in surprise, while an unflappable Frank merely cocked an eyebrow in question at the transformed animal, who was lolling his tongue out to the side in dog-like laughter .

“Hoooollllly shit! That’s _AWESOME!_ Frank! Did you see that?? That’s like when Freddy stalks Debbie in Nightmare on Elm Street and transforms her into a cockroach... or a werewolf change or something… except he's a dog!” Harry bounced in his seat while grabbing Frank’s arm in excitement.

Harry barely registered the light chuckles of Tom and Lucius while he stared, dumbfounded, at where Sirius sat... in the form of a _dog_.

Remus’ eyes twinkled and he shot Harry a lopsided smirk. “ _He_ may be a dog, but _I’m_ the werewolf here.”

Harry gaped at him. “Like, for real?” Remus nodded with a slight chuckle. Harry paused in thought, “What was my father, if you called him Prongs? Could he change too?”

Remus’ smile took on a nostalgic tinge. “He was a stag. A magnificent, amazing stag. We would all run through the Forbidden Forest on full moons, because that’s when I fully transform. Your father was a wonderful man and a great friend, cub. Merlin, I miss him.”

“Huh.”

Sirius had changed back during Remus’ explanation and nodded along with his description of Harry’s father. He then proceeded to tell the story of a boy, James, who had fallen in love with a girl, Lily, from afar. She wouldn’t give him the time of day. She mostly stayed with her best friend, Severus. (Here he coughed ' _Snivellus_ ' into his fist and was met with a baleful look from the dark eyed, dour looking man across from him.)

_“He annoyed her,” Severus spat out._

_“He loved her,” Sirius insisted._

_Remus sighed and dropped his head in his hand. He sent Harry an apologetic look. “Their memories might be a bit biased. The fact is, your mother and father eventually got together in their seventh year. They were very much in love and ultimately went on to get married. You were born on the last day in July, 1980. It was such a wonderful occasion for our pack of friends. Yes, Severus, including you.” Smiling at Harry, Remus continued, “You were such a happy baby. You immediately became my cub, Sirius’ pup, and Severus’ future potions partner. You were loved, cub. Losing you almost killed us all._

Silence filled the room as Harry thought about what the men had told him. He knew, logically, that he once had a family. And he also knew that he had been gaslighted as a child to believe that he was never once loved or cherished. But to hear it so openly talked about? It hurt. It made him angry. It made him rage. He had never been good at ‘love’. That’s not something that he and Frank ever really talked about. It wasn't part of their normal dynamic. But he knew the concept. He had seen the movies. He had read the books. He knew what love was, and he had missed out on that, simply because someone fucked with his world.

Frank looked over at Harry, who hadn’t said a word for a few minutes. He leaned in and muttered, “Hey, kid, you need a break?”

Harry turned deadened green eyes toward the only dad he had ever known and whispered angrily into the room. “No, I need to know. I need to hear what happened. Frank, you’re the best thing to _ever_ happen to me, but something happened to make my life get all fucked up in the beginning. I don’t want to leave until I have answers.”

Tilting his head in a show of support (look at Frank being all demonstrative and shit, Harry was so proud) Frank said, “We’ll stick it out till we figure it out then, kid. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Tom cleared his throat, bringing their attention back to him. “We should probably discuss the evening of your parents’ murders, if that is fine with you Harry.”

Harry nodded numbly. “Yeah, go ahead. I know it’s just gonna get worse. The only thing that’s keeping me from flippin’ the fuck out right now is the fact that I’ll be able to get these shit-stains back for what they did.”

Sirius snorted and Remus sent him a vicious grin. Severus nodded in his direction and firmly stated, “Believe me, young man, we will be right there with you to help.”

Tom nodded and began, “I think we should start with the prophecy.” He looked at Severus and gestured for him to speak.

Severus looked at Harry sadly, and, with a pale face, sighed, “The prophecy that Sybil Trelawney gave Headmaster Dumbledore in front of witnesses at the Hog’s Head Pub was told just before your birth. The exact wording that she shared was:

_“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies....”_ (1)

“He interpreted that as being James and Lily’s son who was due to be born in the end of July, 1980. He forced them into hiding, placing a fidelus onto the home. (“What’s that?” “A secrecy spell so that only certain people who are included in the spell know that location.” “Oh.”) He quickly offered Trelawney a Professorship at Hogwarts, we believe in exchange for the prophecy being worded that way, and he obviously ended up paying her off from your trust account.”

Severus took a deep shuddering breath before continuing, “It wasn’t until later, when the Dark Lord was able to go into the Ministry with Lucius, that we were able to hear the actual prophecy. But, by that time it was too late. Your mother and father had been murdered, most likely by Dumbledore, and maybe by others as well. Your godfather, Sirius, was blamed for betraying his friends and giving their location away to the Dark Lord. We know that did not happen because he and Lupin were in the woods that night for their monthly furry run. Dumbledore claimed that Sirius brought the Dark Lord into the house where they murdered your parents. Again, obviously none of that happened. That was what I was told on the morning of the 1st of November, 1981, however. Dumbledore fed me all of his lies about you being rescued, fending off a dark curse and being spirited away to a safehouse where you would be raised with love and tenderness.”

Harry stared at Severus in shock. “Fuckin’ _LOVE and TENDERNESS???_ I certainly _hope_ that’s not what fuckin’ ‘love and tenderness’ is. Jesus Christ on a fuckin’ crutch.”

Tom raised an eyebrow in Harry’s direction, “You do have the most _eloquent_ way of stating things, young man.”

Harry flipped him the bird. At that point, Frank brought his hand over to squeeze once on Harry’s knee to remind him to calm down. Harry took a deep breath and nodded for Severus to continue his tale.

“We now know what happened to you, so the only issue that we have to deal with is the genuine prophecy,” Severus concluded.

“And some fuckin’ revenge,” Harry glowered.

Frank interjected before Harry could go any further with a rant. “What’s the real prophecy?”

Tom met his gaze evenly and said, “Good question, Mr. Castle. I would like to mention, before you hear it, that prophecies are interpretable, and therefore not set in stone. When we found the true prophecy in the Ministry it said:

_“A destined child will rise from suffering, born when the seventh month dies… a dark lord will mark him, the darkness will raise him… he will flourish in anger, he will thrive in violence… he will come forth and bring a reckoning to those who spread devastation to true magic… a destined child will rise from suffering, born when the seventh month dies…”_

Harry’s heart clenched as he listened to Tom tell them the prophecy. “What does that mean for me? Is that even about me? I mean, I was born in the end of July, but I wasn’t marked or anything.” He turned to Frank, “What does this _mean_??”

Frank gripped his arm and pulled him forward into his chest. Two hugs in one day! That’s a new Frank record, Harry thought ruefully, and all that needed to happen to get them was discovery of murder, treachery, thievery, finding lost ‘family’ and prophecies. Yep, nothing big at all.

He wrapped his arms around Frank and buried his head in his chest, breathing deeply of the leather scent, trying to calm down. He needed to shoot something. This was getting to be way too much for him to deal with today. And dinner wasn’t even over!

“What does the ‘marked’ part mean?” Frank asked in his low, calm voice. Harry was so grateful that nothing seemed to ever phase Frank.

Tom hummed in consideration while Severus spoke up again, “When Dumbledore stopped by my rooms the morning after the murders, he mentioned that Harry had been hit with a dark curse.” After saying that he paused and looked at Harry, “Do you have any scars?”

Harry sat back up from his hug and looked out at the men around the table. “I think the question should be where _don’t_ I have scars,” he snorted.

Sirius and Remus tensed visibly, and Severus lost even more color in his face. Lucius’ lips pursed while Tom actually let out a strangled gasp.

“Who?” Was all Remus growled out, while he sent a glare toward Frank.

Harry barked out a laugh and shook his head quickly. “No! You’re insane if you think that Frank would _ever_ lay a hand on me. Make me do laps? Probably. Make me do pushups? Pullups? Burpees? Stay in the ‘front leaning rest position' as punishment? Sure. Ground me and keep me from hanging out with Wade? Oh yeah. Definitely. But, _hit_ me?? Never.” He sucked in a breath and continued on, without thinking about what he was revealing, “The Dursleys hit me all the time. Petunia would catch me with a frying pan. Dudley would pummel the crap out of me. And Vernon, well that asshole would fuck my shit up with a belt when he was real pissed. My back looks all messed up from it. I’ve got some scars from missions and what not, and,” he pulled his silver streaked hair to the side, “I’ve got this beauty that I’ve had for as long as I can remember.”

Sirius whispered a shocked, “Merlin...”, while the others gaped at Harry’s description of his life with his relatives.

Tom leaned forward to inspect Harry’s forehead and lifted a finger to touch his scar, “May I touch?”

Harry shrugged, “Sure, it’s just a scar. I’ve been hit near it before and I thought the design would get messed up, but it always stays the same.”

Humming in contemplation, Tom ran his finger down the jagged scar on Harry’s forehead. He felt the telltale tingle that always came when someone touched him there. It caused a shudder to rack through his body. Tom noticed his movement and lifted an eyebrow in question.

“It always feels weird when someone touches my scar. Frank did it when he found me, and I remember the tingles. It felt good, though, not creepy good or anything, just… you know… nice. Comforting,” Harry explained.

Leaning back, Tom placed his elbows on the table and tented his fingers in front of his chin. “I believe that Dumbledore might have hit you with a spell that night that caused that scar. There does not seem to be any leftover dark magic in it, however it would make sense that it would be sensitive to the touch. One has to wonder why he would even go to those lengths to hurt you, though.”

Lucius, who had been silent for almost the entire meal, finally spoke up. “My Lord, considering what we know about Dumbledore and how he strives for power and uses pawns, it is likely that he was setting up young Harry as one. With your power rising back then and the Potters potentially moving to your side, he would have been losing face quickly. He could have potentially lost the backing of the Houses of Black, Potter, the werewolf Lupin and even one of his Professors. This would not do. I postulate that he cursed Harry so that he could be marked, thus being proven as the prophecy child who would bring about your downfall.”

Harry stared at Lucius while he processed what he said. “Damn, Lucy, you did some ‘splainin there, didn’t you?”

Lucius spluttered and shot an incredulous look at Harry. “Lucy??”

Frank groaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warning:** description of child abuse.
> 
> 1. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, J. K. Rowling, _pub. 2003_
> 
> Movies Quoted/Referenced:  
> 
> 
>   1. Nightmare on Elm Street IV: The Dream Master (1988)
>   2. I Love Lucy (TV: 1951-1957)
> 



	20. On Learning the Major Players

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Frank learn about those involved in the murder plot of his parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously guys, your support of this absurd little (ok, not so little anymore) fanfic is awesome. Thank you for your kudos/comments and general interest. It makes writing for y’all that much better. Now, back to the Manor where some plotting of revenge might be happening soon - _maybe_. 😉
> 
>  **Trigger Warnings** at end of chapter.

_Frank groaned._

**\--- August, 1996 (Sixteen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Malfoy Manor ---**

After Lucius calmed down, he suggested that they retire to the drawing room for the rest of their conversation and some beverages.

"You got a beer for Frank?" Harry asked Lucius, as they settled in the overstuffed seats around a roaring fire. He turned and looked at Harry like he had just asked if Lucius would strip down and dance naked on the table for tips. So, apparently... no beer. Harry glanced at Frank and shrugged.

"We have firewhisky, if that is satisfactory to you, Mr. Castle," Lucius offered pompously.

Frank slightly dipped his head in acceptance, "That's fine."

Harry was given something called a 'butterbeer' - _way_ too sweet, but it was wet and he was thirsty after all this talking. (And it was either that or _pumpkin juice_ \- gag!) They all received their drinks and the conversation got back on track, Harry brought up the issue regarding the people mentioned by Ragnok. He wanted to know who all the people were that had taken some of his parent’s money. (Well, _his_ money, he guessed. Although it was kind of weird to think that he had any money other than what he earned from his work with Frank.)

Tom started telling him about Dumbledore first. He explained that the Headmaster was a very slippery character who liked to act like a benevolent grandfather to all of those around, well those who he thought deserved it. He described him wearing ridiculous long robes and having a stupid twinkle in his eyes that he enhanced with his magic. He did this to give the people he spoke to the feeling that he was to be trusted, that he was honest. Harry figured that it must work if no one had figured out that this Dumbledore asshole had been _stealing_ for at least the past fifteen years. Who knows who else he had done this to.

“He has never been a good man, for as long as I have known him. I was an orphan, much like yourself, and he took advantage of that fact. He met me before I even went to Hogwarts and told me all about magic. I am not sure what made him choose that I should be treated as a dark wizard who would never do any good in the world. Maybe it was the fact that I was a parselmouth.” 

_“A what?” Harry asked, confused by all the new terminology he was hearing._

_“I can talk to snakes.” Tom stated._

_Harry's eyes went wide and he exclaimed, “What?? Like a real conversation? Do they, like, have interesting shit to say?”_

_Tom lifted the side of his mouth in a small smile, “Yes, my familiar Nagini often keeps me very entertained during Death Eater meetings.”_

_“Death Eater... no, there’s just way too much in that statement to even unpack right now. I think we should come back to that little nugget of crazy in a while,” Harry shook his head._

_Inclining his head, Tom replied, “As you wish.”_

Tom resumed his explanation, “Maybe it was because he could tell that, even at that young age, I was too powerful for him. He might have taken one look at me and figured that one day I would have the power to take away all those grand positions that he holds. To take away the prestige that he held in the world. He only got his revered status from fighting Grindelwald, but even that is a touchy subject for those who knew them both.”

_“Touchy?” Harry asked, “Why? And who is Grindelwald?”_

_Tom made a grimace and sneered, “A supposed Dark Lord that Dumbledore defeated. However, most believe that he and Dumbledore were not the enemies that they portrayed to the wizarding world. There were rumors that they were very close friends.” _

_“Like ‘hide the pickle’ kind of close?” Harry smirked._

_As he said that, Severus started coughing, Remus choked on a laugh, and Sirius almost fell out of his chair guffawing. Tom merely fixed him with a droll look. “One might say that, yes.”_

Bringing them back to the subject at hand, Tom continued his tale. “Those in this room know what he did to me back then. I was ostracized for having power. He made sure that all of the professors feared me and what I ‘would become’, according to him. Everything about me was considered wrong. I was sorted into the most evil house. I spent too much time researching spells that were not part of his 'approved' list. I was never given a chance to show them that I did not want to become a Dark Lord, like Grindelwald, I just wanted to become powerful in my own right. I even tried to stay at Hogwarts after graduation and teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. I enjoy teaching and am exceedingly knowledgeable about every subject I studied. But that did not fall into the plans of the _Great Albus Dumbledore_ , and he informed me that no one as dark as me would ever be welcome to teach innocent lives in the hallowed halls of Hogwarts.” 

Harry did not think that Tom was the type to roll his eyes, but if he _had_ been… well, Harry would bet two of his Glock 19s that Tom would be rollin’ the fuck out of ‘em right then.

“Ok,” Harry interrupted, “So Dumbledore is an asshole who wants his own way and gives everyone around him who doesn’t fall in line the creeps. Is he just stealing from me? Or did he do stuff to other people too? I mean besides treating you like crap, and all.”

Tom paused, deciding for a moment his next words. “There have been rumors that he not only steals money, but he might also steal magic from certain individuals. Severus has felt a leach from him at certain times during his tenure at Hogwarts.” He looked over at Severus who gave a reluctant nod. “He mentioned that it is only while he is _inside_ the school. And if that is happening, young Harry, it is an abomination to mother magic and all she stands for. You do not steal magic from another magical being. It is worse than stealing money. Worse than causing physical pain. It is akin to stealing the life force from a magical creature. To do that darkens the very soul until all that is left is rotten putrid blackness. It is the worst offense that one can do in this world.”

“Well, that’s just shit,” Harry declared. “This guy is clearly beggin’ for some time with me ‘n Frank in Baby Gitmo.” Frank’s shoulders shook a tiny bit in silent laughter. Harry snickered, feeling proud that he was able to crack Frank's stoic facade a little.

Lucius’ face contorted in confusion. “Baby Gitmo?”

Harry scratched the back of his neck, peering at Frank for support. He just stared back blandly. (Thanks, Frank.) “Uh, it’s, uh, where… you know… we ‘chat’ with people. They usually end up pretty _talkative_ after a while of hangin’ out with us down there.”

It was Tom, this time, whose shoulders shook in silent laughter. “You are a _positively fiendish_ young man. If we can work together, I have a feeling that Dumbledore will never see either of us coming.”

Harry bared his teeth at him, “It’ll be fun.”

Frank shook his head slightly in exasperation and interrupted the two. “Who are the other people on that list? We know the Dursleys. I had the _pleasure_ of meetin’ them a while back. Wasn’t a long meeting. Don’t think they enjoyed it at all, but it didn’t matter to me much. I wasn’t impressed with them, anyway, from what I _did_ see when I picked up Harry.”

Severus coughed lightly, “Yes, I happened to see, firsthand, how your meeting with the Dursleys ended up. It was quite… effective.”

Frank sent one of his _very rare_ grins Severus’ way, full of teeth and a little too menacing to be considered a smile. “Yeah, me ‘n the kid had a _real good_ conversation with them that night. Didn’t we, kid?”

Harry beamed at Frank, “Yup. One of my favorite memories with you.”

Sirius and Remus stared at the pair of them, speechless. Severus cleared his throat, “Ah, yes, I suppose I could see that.”

Remus was the first to recover from his slight shock. “Ok, well, glad to hear that you enjoyed yourself, cub. As for the other payouts, one of them from your vaults is to Dumbledore’s Order. Technically called the Order of the Phoenix, it is a group of people that Dumbledore uses to push his propaganda. He has them do missions for the ‘greater good’. Sirius and I should know, we were part of it, along with your parents.” He glanced at Severus, “Severus was supposed to be part of it as well, but Dumbledore considered him a ‘spy’ for the light. He had him get in close with Lord Voldemort and learn what was going on in his meetings. Anyone who did not obey blindly when Dumbledore gave an order was considered dark, and therefore punished in some way. This could mean being forced to give up more time for missions, being sent away on ridiculous tasks for the ‘light’ or even giving up some money for the cause. He is very good at guilting people into believing that if they are not following him then they are leading the wizarding world, and in turn magic, into darkness.”

He paused and growled low in his throat, “They started to push the propaganda that werewolves were extremely dangerous dark creatures who should be given no rights in the wizarding world.” He stopped and shook his head ruefully, “Merlin, I _worked_ with these people, and they would treat me no better than a barely restrained wild animal. It was pure fortune that I was out with Sirius that night, otherwise I fear that they would have tried to make it seem that I had betrayed your parents too. And, cub, believe me… I would not have been put in Azkaban for my betrayal. No, I would have been given the kiss.”

“Ookaay, let’s just assume that you’re talking to someone who knows nothin’ about your world… like me. What is Azkaban? And why is a kiss a bad thing?”

Sirius was the one to answer. “Pup, in our world the worst and most dangerous criminals are put in a prison called Azkaban. It is guarded by truly horrific creatures known as dementors. They feed on the happy memories of their victims, causing the prisoners to go crazy from lack of good emotions. Dementors have the ability to drain one’s life and suck the soul out of their body, leaving a husk of a person to wither over time and die. It is the vilest way to die. Merlin, I would rather take a damned AK to the chest before getting kissed.”

Harry mouthed ‘AK’ at Remus in confusion who explained that it was the spell to kill someone, one of the unforgivable spells. He went on to explain _crucio_ and _imperio_ as well, telling Harry that it takes strong intent to harm in order to perform any of them.

Side eyeing Tom, Harry snorted, “Bet you’ve got them _all_ down, don’t you Tommy Boy.”

Tom narrowed his eyes, “Yes, and _you’ll_ get to experience one of them if you call me that again.”

Harry raised his hands in a show of surrender while chuckling. “Fine, I’ll be good… promise.” He quickly glanced Frank’s way as he made the promise, but he could tell that Frank wasn’t fooled by his antics at all.

“So, who is this Figg person? It can’t be that crazy cat lady, can it?” Harry asked.

Severus chimed in, “Arabella Figg is a squib, one who has a magical core but is unable to perform spells or access their magic. She lives a few houses down from where you were living with the Dursleys. It is my understanding that Dumbledore had her looking out for you. She obviously was being paid for her services from your trust vault.”

“Well, she did a shitty ass job at looking out for me. And her house smelled like straight up cat piss,” Harry scoffed. “Who are the Weasleys? I’ve never heard of them before. They weren’t people who lived on my street, were they?”

Lucius spoke up this time. “The Weasleys are considered blood traitors. They have spurned the true ways of magic and embraced the…” he curled his lip, “muggle ways.” He looked over at Frank and bowed his head in slight concession. “I am sure that some muggles are worthy, however most are ignorant of our ways, and therefore pose a threat to our way of life.”

Harry glanced at Frank and back at Lucius. “Muggle, non-magic right? Well, Frank’s been around magic shit since I was eleven. He’s pretty numb to it. Fuck, with all he’s done and seen, he’s pretty numb to almost everything,” he chuckled. Frank reached over and cuffed him lightly on the back of his head before he could duck out of the way.

“How… wonderful,” Lucius intoned. “The Weasley family is one that is extremely poor. They are a light family and follow Dumbledore blindly. You can always tell a Weasley because they all have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford.”(1)

“Alright, so the last person on that list is the Trelawney bitch who started this whole thing with the fake prophecy. Ok, good. Lists are good. Now that I know who to kill, I just need to go out and do it,” Harry stated firmly.

Tom pondered him for a moment before saying, “Well, young Harry, you _do_ have all of the players in this plot, however I have to question if merely killing them is enough for you.”

Cocking an eyebrow in question, Harry drawled, “Color me intrigued, Tom, what are you thinkin’ behind those pretty little red eyes of yours?”

Over the sounds of Lucius spluttering and Sirius choking on a laugh, Tom proceeded to tell Harry his thoughts on revenge. How good it would feel to, not only kill the people who murdered his parents, but to positively _ruin_ them beforehand.

Harry thought he sounded a little like Frank back when they first met, talking about retribution and rage. Thinking about how good it had felt to press down on the trigger and take out the Dursleys, he considered playing the long game… getting revenge, letting his vicious streak come out and play, but subtly. A sting operation, like Frank would say. He could stake out his prey, wait until they were vulnerable, _then_ attack. Yes, he could do that. The only question was how.

Turning to Frank he asked, “What do you think?”

Frank sat there, silent and considering, arms folded across his punisher logo, legs crossed at his ankles. He looked at the other men in the room and then let his gaze come back to settle on Harry. “Kid, you’re my kid. I want you to be happy with what you choose. Just like that night so many years ago, I figure you got a couple choices: I’ll help you hunt ‘em and take em out quick, _or_ … you can do like these guys say and make it hurt bad… _real_ bad… like rubbin’ salt 'n Tobasco in razor blade cuts on someone’s chest. Like stickin’ needles under their fingernails and twistin’ ‘em. Like when you slowly pull a garrotte around someone’s neck, only to let it go and pull it tight again, or gouging’ someone’s eyeball out with an ice pick. Like _slowly_ digging a knife into the scrotum of your victim. You can make it hurt… _then_ you can end it. Either way, I’m with you. There’s nothing that can happen in this world that will make it so I’m not on your side. It’s your choice, kid. And I back you 100%, no matter what.”

The other occupants of the room had gone slightly green with Frank’s description of what they did to people in order to get information. Sirius had crossed his legs in discomfort, much to the amusement of Harry, when Frank mentioned the knife in the scrotum. He was going to have _so_ much fun with these guys!

Tom raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “That has to be the most I have heard you say at one time, Mr. Castle, and I quite approve of your methods.” His gaze fell on Harry, “You will have help if you want to make them pay. I will help you.” He pointed to Sirius, Severus, Remus and Lucius. “They will help you. We will figure out the best way to destroy those who hurt you, and so many others.”

Harry tapped his fingers against his knee in thought. He could do this. They could figure out a decent plan for him to make them all pay. Pay with humiliation, pay with anguish, pay with agony, and then… pay with blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warning:** Slight graphic description of torture methods (no actual torture) 
> 
> 1. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, J. K. Rowling, _pub. 1997_


	21. On Breakfast at the Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank and Harry go back to the manor for breakfast. Frank and Tom have a… discussion. Harry meets a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again, guys, for your kudos/comments and for just reading along as I spin this tale. This chapter shows a little more emotion (well, their version of emotion) from our boys... I know, I know... they're supposed to be emotionless killing machines. *shrug* Don't hate me.
> 
>  **Trigger Warnings** at end of chapter.

_Pay with humiliation, pay with anguish, pay with agony, and then... pay with blood._

**\--- August, 1996 (Sixteen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Malfoy Manor ---**

Harry bit back a yawn as the conversation in the room wound down. He wanted to plan out his revenge, but this day had just taken all of his energy. What with the will reading, the emotional rollercoaster of meeting his ‘uncles’, finding out that he had been cheated and stolen from, and having a very good dinner and then a (kinda shitty) drink, he was _exhausted_. He looked over at Frank and sent him a sheepish look as another yawn escaped.

Frank observed him for a moment before telling the men in the room that it was time to wrap things up for the evening. “We can come back, but kid has had a rough day, and he needs a decent kip before we do any more talkin’.”

Lucius politely offered to put them in rooms in the manor for the evening, but neither of them felt comfortable enough to stay in a foreign place. Even if the men in the room _did_ seem like they were above board. Frank shook his head, declining the offer. “Thanks, but we’ll head out to our place in London. We need to check on some things tonight anyway.”

Tom and Lucius said their goodbyes but stayed seated in the drawing room. They were probably planning on having some _very important_ discussion after Harry and Frank left, Harry supposed. Tom suggested that they meet the next morning for breakfast at the manor. Harry and Frank agreed to the plan, saying that they would be back around nine the next morning to continue their conversation. Sirius, Severus and Remus all stood to walk them out.

“Merlin, pup, when you walked through those doors in Gringotts today, well… I’ve never been so glad to see someone in _my life_. It was like having that missing part of the Marauders back. And before you or Moony say anything, no… I am not trying to make you take James’ place, at all. If anyone knows what it feels like to be forced into being something that they are not, it’s me. And I know that this is a weird time for you, learning about all of this history and Dumbledore’s plots. But, pup, we’ll work together to fix it,” Sirius promised. He stepped forward as if trying to give Harry a hug, but Harry quickly sidestepped it, grinning awkwardly.

Remus nodded to them both. “You have our word that we will do _everything_ in our power to make that old goat pay for what he has done to our pack. Like Padfoot said, I’m just glad to see you again, cub.” He didn’t try to hug Harry, but he did extend his hand to shake goodbye. Harry eyed it dubiously then gave it a quick, tentative shake.

Severus intoned a small goodbye, wishing them a good evening until they saw each other again in the morning.

Frank grabbed Harry around the back of the neck and steered him toward the end of the road to ‘acquire’ a car to drive back toward their safehouse. As Frank drove the couple hours from Wiltshire back to their spot in London, Harry leaned his head against the window in thought. Watching the scenery fly by in the evening dusk, he was lulled to sleep, dreaming of how to mount an attack on one Albus Dumbledore and his merry band of fuckwads.

**\----------**

**\--- London ---**

Frank pushed Harry through the door after he checked that nothing in their house had been disturbed. He guided him down the small hallway to Harry’s room where Harry flopped on the bed like a starfish. Harry barely registered as Frank’s big, calloused hands took his weapons and holsters off, and stripped him of his boots and leather coat. He pushed his kid under the covers and stared down at him for a moment before turning to leave the room.

“Hey, Frank?” Harry mumbled tiredly from the bed before Frank walked out.

“Yeah, kid?”

“Um, I don’t think I’ve ever said this to anyone before in my life,” he whispered hesitantly into the room, “but you deserve to hear it more than _anyone_ I know.” He sat up and faced the man who had raised him from the time he was seven years old. The man who had protected him, taught him, fed and clothed him. The one who had allowed him to fail, and the one who always gave his Frank-esque, subdued praise to lift him up when he did well. Harry owed this man _everything_.

Sucking in a trembling breath, he looked at Frank and said, “Meeting those people tonight made me realize that without you saving me, I would be nothing by now. My life could have been a straight up shit show if I hadn’t met you. I could have had such a horrible life if I had been left in that place. That Dumbledore asshole could have ruined me _even more_ than I was when you found me. You saved me, Frank. I _owe you my life_. And I… um, well... I, uh, guess I… love you?"

He reached up and scratched the back of his neck, averting his eyes. "I mean, I think? ‘Cus, I was thinking about it when they were talkin’ about how much my parents loved me ‘n how I’d never really had that or needed that shit. But then I realized that I _did_ have that growing up. It was just different from the crap in the movies or the books. Frank, you’re the _best dad_ I’ll ever have. Full fuckin’ stop. No matter what I learn about my birth parents. No matter what those guys end up bein’ in my life. You’re the one I’ll always need to have my six.” He ducked his head in embarrassment, feeling raw from baring so much of himself to the stoic man who had raised him. 

Frank stared at him emotionlessly while Harry expressed his feelings, then walked back to where he was sitting on the bed. He reached out a hand, brushed the hair back on his forehead and slowly traced Harry’s scar with his finger. 

“I know, kid… sometimes, what the heart knows, the head forgets.” He said affectionately as he patted Harry on the head.

Harry batted his hand away with a grunt, and, with a slight blush on his cheeks, he muttered, “Really, Mr. Miyagi?” He whooshed out a relieved breath. “Okay, good, we don’t have to ever have to talk about this shit again, though, right? I mean, you get it?” 

Frank huffed out a small laugh. “Yeah, kid, I get it.” He told him to get some sleep. That they had a full day of planning some revenge the next day, and he needed his rest to be in his best mindset. Frank turned and left the room, only looking back once to make sure that Harry actually closed his eyes and drifted off.

**\----------**

**\--- Malfoy Manor ---**

Before breakfast even started, Tom requested to meet with Frank and Harry in his study. They gathered in the large room, lined with shelves of books and old looking artifacts. Harry could feel magical energy pouring off of them. Tom’s desk was made of ancient, polished wood, and he rounded it to sit in the large green velvet chair behind it. 

“Harry,” Tom started, when Frank and he had sat down in front of the desk, “We discussed your situation last night after you left. I will, of course, be taking on the mantle of your magical guardian and voter proxy. I realize that Mr. Castle is your physical guardian, but I believe that it would be best for all parties if you were to stay in the wizarding world until you reach your majority. This way I can train you in what you need to know for when you take the mantle of Lordship.”

Tom paused for a moment and looked at Frank, “I think you should let him stay here. For the whole year. Give me the opportunity to groom him, to mould him into someone who is not so brash and reckless. You can stay with him, of course, but he needs to learn from us what it really means to be a wizard. He needs to focus on wizarding magic, not muggle weapons. He does not need to be running off and attempting to do anything rash. No, let him work with my followers so that he can become the best wizard the wizarding world has seen. If he _is_ the child of the prophecy, which I believe he is, then he will need all the help he can get to fight Dumbledore and this war. Let _us_ get him ready so that we can send him to school when he turns seventeen. He may be trained in your muggle ways and in the magical ways of this Dr. Strange, but he needs to learn about wizarding magic. As his magical guardian, it is my belief that would best be done here, in the manor, with me. And his ‘uncles’ as well. But, we should really be the ones to help him in this situation, instead of him resorting to your muggle ways.” 

He looked back at Harry and emphasized, “I think you would agree that this would be best, yes?”

Frank shifted slightly in the seat beside Harry. His eyes had narrowed into an angry glare. He opened and closed his gloved hands into fists, and his lips had formed a tight line. This had to be the most outwardly angry that Harry had ever seen Frank, except during a fight, that is. Frank just _didn’t show_ anger, and this was seriously starting to be cause for alarm. Harry wondered if (no, not _if...when_ ) this situation would devolve into bloodshed. Never mind what Tom had just said about the prophecy and all that wizarding crap, Harry was now solely focused on Frank’s reaction.

“Harry?”

“Yeah, Frank?” Harry responded quickly.

“Leave the room.” Frank ordered softly.

Harry immediately rose from his chair and exited the office. He _knew_ Frank, and if he gave an order, there was a reason for it. He stood outside the door, but made sure to leave it open a crack… just to make sure Frank was okay.

He watched Frank slowly rise from the chair and move toward the desk. Tom leaned back to observe his movements, but did nothing as Frank advanced. Not the smartest move on Tom’s part, in Harry’s opinion. When Frank reached the edge of the desk, his hand snaked out and grabbed Tom’s neck, too fast for the man to do anything to stop it. Frank pulled him in, so close their noses almost touched. He squeezed. Hard. Hard enough that Tom couldn’t speak and could only choke out sounds. Harry could hear the leather of Frank’s glove creaking with the movement.

“Look here, you little shit-stain, you don’t get to hold any of that prophecy shit over _my kid’s_ head in an attempt to make him feel like he needs to fall in line with your 'people'. And you sure as fuck don't get to tell him what is best for him. Almost sounds like you're just as bad as that Dumbledore asshole,” he growled as he pulled one of his knives and slipped it under Tom’s chin. “Kid's had enough guilt and fucked up shit to last his whole life. You don’t get to force him into making the choice _you_ want him to by guiltin' him into your war or whatever. _He_ gets to choose his own path. _I_ made fuckin’ sure to raise him that way.” 

Harry watched as Frank twisted the knife deep enough into Tom's neck to draw a drop blood that ran down into the collar of his robes. He snarled, “ _No_ outside influence. Just give him the fuckin’ facts. You seem pretty invested in pushin’ him one way. And, fuck, it might even be the right way, but you don't get to just fuckin' choose _for_ him." The leather creaked a little more as his fingers flexed on Tom's neck. Tom would probably have bruises after this little conversation with Frank.

"Now, I don’t give a _flyin’ fuck_ if he wants to stay, wants to go, wants to kill someone 'the muggle way' or wants to become a _fairy fuckin’ princess_ … but, _he_ gets to choose… got it? Keep your fuckin’ smooth suggestions to yourself and just give him the options. He’s a smart fuckin’ kid, and he’s _MY_ fuckin’ kid. Treat him that way. I’ll back whatever he chooses, but you better lay it out honestly, or this little poke in your neck? Well it might just become a giant fuckin’ hole in your head.” He sneered.

Harry could tell that Tom was slowly losing the ability to breathe as his face turned more and more red. He was trying to reach into his robes with one hand while using the other hand to clutch at Frank’s wrist, in an attempt to get him to release his grip. Tom choked out a reply that Harry couldn’t quite hear. 

Stepping back from the door, Harry turned and looked down the hall to see if anyone was going to come this way and bother the two in the office, but he saw no one. He shrugged indifferently and pulled the door closed. It seemed that Frank had the situation with Tom well in hand. It didn't look like he was needed at all. He should probably just go hang out in the drawing room until breakfast was ready. He _was_ getting pretty hungry, and he hoped that they served normal food here… not just that English fry-up crap. He could really go for some decent hash browns.

**\----------**

Sitting in the drawing room, he fiddled with his knife while he waited for Frank and Tom to finish their conversation. He thought a little about what Tom had brought up. Yeah, Frank was right when he said that Tom was biased one way, but there was a bit of truth to what he had said. If Harry wanted to get in and ruin this Dumbledore, he would need to know this world. He would need to be able to learn their ways so that he could fit in. He didn't think that Tom was completely self-serving, but he obviously did need Harry to help him fight Dumbledore. And the prophecy... if it was about him, well that definitely gave Harry pause. It said that he would bring a reckoning. True, he was The Scourge, but how much reckoning could one person have in regards to an entire wizarding world? Once Frank and Tom were done with their little chat, he would have to get a few answers before he chose what he wanted to do.

Sitting there, he flicked his knife open and closed, entranced by the blade and its sharp edge. He imagined stabbing the knife into the neck of Dumbledore, even though he had no idea what the man looked like. He probably looked like Santa... or Gandalf. He imagined the knife hitting the coronal artery, blood spraying everywhere. He would step back and watch as the old fuck bled out, light dying in his eyes as he faded from life.

Pulling out his phone he shot Wade a quick text. His phone shocked him as he pressed 'send', but seemed to work fine otherwise.

_(Scourge) 09:12_

> dude miyagi is fukin up this guys shit upstairs 

_(Dead) 09:12_

> at least sme1 is gttn lei’d 

_(Scourge) 09:13_

> eew hes kickn the guys azz not the othr thng 

_(Scourge) 09:13_

> srsly gross man 

_(Dead) 09:14_

> wat? he culd stnd 2 get sme azz

_(Dead) 09:15_

> ooh... is he... punishing him?? ;) 

_(Dead) 09:16_

> bow chikka wow wow 

_(Scourge) 09:17_

> staap *throws up in mouth* 

_(Dead) 09:18_

> 8==D (*) 8==D 

_(Dead) 09:18_

> 0_0 

_(Scourge) 09:19_

> i hate u so much

_(Dead) 09:20_

> u miss me admit it 

_(Scourge) 09:21_

> u wish 

_(Dead) 09:23_

> wrds hurt mini menace gtg tell frnk 2 get it! 

Shaking his head at the sheer ridiculousness of Wade, Harry's hair fell over his forehead. As he lifted his hand to flip it to one side, out of his eyes, he noticed movement by the door. He looked up and met the ice gray eyes of the most pretentious, snobbish looking boy he had ever seen. He had to be around Harry's age, and he was wearing a white silk button down shirt and _tailored slacks_. Harry didn't even _own_ slacks, let alone tailored ones. His perfectly porcelain skin, light blond hair and patrician looks made Harry realize that he was probably some relative of Lucius'. The kid’s air of superiority rivaled that of Dr. Strange. He looked disdainfully back at Harry, wrinkled his nose and turned to Lucius, who had just walked up behind him.

"Père, qui est cet individu dégoûtant dans le salon?"(1) He asked Lucius with a grimace. ( _Father, who is that disgusting individual in the drawing room?_) 

Lucius glanced quickly at Harry then answered him, “C'est un invité de notre Seigneur, Draco, comportez-vous et traitez-le avec respect.”(1) ( _That is a guest of our Lord, Draco, behave and treat him with respect._ )

The boy lifted his nose in the air and sniffed haughtily. “Il a l’air sale.”(1) ( _He looks filthy._ )

Lucius tapped his cane on the marble floor impatiently, “Agissez de façon appropriée! Il ne comprend pas notre monde. Il est Harry Potter, et il sera un jour un Seigneur.”(1) ( _Act appropriately! He does not understand our world. He is Harry Potter, and he will be a Lord one day._ )

Harry snorted from his spot on the couch, flipping his knife in the air. "Ouais, chérie, sois gentil avec moi. Je serai peut-être responsable de toi un jour."(1) ( _Yeah, sweetheart, be nice to me. I might be in charge of you someday._ )

"Кого ты называешь возлюбленной?"(2) Frank grumbled as he walked into the drawing room, behind the two blond Malfoys. ( _Who you calling sweetheart?_ )

"Frank!” Harry exclaimed with glee, “Je viens peut-être de rencontrer mon nouveau meilleur ami. N’est-il pas joli? Ses cheveux sont si brillants!"(1) ( _Frank! I might have just met my new best friend. Isn't he pretty? His hair is so shiny!_ )

Frank looked at the boy, Draco, then back at Harry, lifting one brow. "Перестань беспокоить мирных жителей. я закончил с моим чатом. Теперь мы все можем поговорить. Приходи завтракать и оставь свою хорошенькую подругу в покое."(2) ( _Stop bothering the civilians. I am done with my chat. We can all talk now. Come to breakfast and leave your pretty friend alone._ )

"Прекрасно... разрушить все мое удовольствие."(2) Harry pouted as he followed Frank out of the room. ( _Fine... ruin all my fun._ )

"Pretty?? _PRETTY???_ Did you really just call me _pretty_?? Father! Did you hear him?" Draco screeched as Harry and Frank walked toward the dining room. Lucius shook his head and followed them, beckoning his son to follow.

Draco hurried to catch up to Harry, mumbling about boys who should tell others that they understood French instead of just sitting there… and wondering who in Merlin’s name knew how to speak Russian in _Wiltshire_. Harry snickered and shot him coy grin. “Maybe you should bulk up on your languages there, pretty boy.”

Gawking at him, Draco squawked in disbelief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warnings:** canon typical threats of violence (knife/gun), description of blood (very minimal)
> 
> Movies Quoted/References:
> 
>   1. The Karate Kid (1984)
> 

> 
> Languages Used (Translated with Google Translate):  
> 1. French  
> 2. Russian


	22. On Making Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some plans are _FINALLY_ made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good grief! These boys certainly took their sweet ass time getting down to the actual planning session. Also, guys! Thanks so much for all the love you send my way. The kudos and comments keep this story going strong.

_Gawking at him, Draco squawked in disbelief._

**\--- August, 1996 (Sixteen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Malfoy Manor ---**

Tom, who had apparently recovered from whatever happened during his conversation with Frank, sat at the head of the table again. (Harry was a little disappointed. He didn’t even have visible bruises!) Severus, Sirius and Remus had arrived while they were ‘chatting’, and Lucius and Draco also joined them. An elegant woman walked into the dining room. 

She stood tall and slim and was dressed in stylish dark silver robes that offset her long blond hair. Her pale blue eyes scanned the table’s occupants, settling on Harry and Frank, before moving to the head of the table and looking at Tom. Lucius introduced her as his wife, Narcissa Malfoy. She swept in the room and inclined her head toward Tom, “My Lord.”

As she entered, everyone stood from where they sat, except for Tom. (Of course.) Even _Harry_ knew to stand when a woman reached the table. He had at least been taught _that much_ by Frank. Not that he had any other manners to mention. 

They had just taken their seats again when small, wrinkled bug-eyed hobgoblins literally popped into the room and snapped their fingers to make the food appear. Harry jerked in his chair and stared at the weird creatures. They were ‘dressed’ in pillowcases and had huge floppy pointed ears. He glanced dubiously at them before they popped out of the room. “Uh…” He looked at Tom and the others for answers. “What?”

“House elves, Mr. Potter. They take care of the manor,” Narcissa’s cold voice informed him.

Harry eyed her and then looked back at where the elf had disappeared. “Huh. Also,” he turned to face her again, “you can call me Harry, or Scourge, if you want.”

“Very well, Mr. Scourge,” she conceded.

Harry dropped his head in his hand. “Yeah, I guess that works too,” he mumbled.

Sirius snorted at his obvious frustration while the rest of the table’s occupants began their breakfasts. 

Harry could tell that Draco was itching to ask questions, but _he_ had apparently been brought up with those ‘manners things’ that Frank had never really bothered with when Harry was being raised. He figured he should put the kid out of his misery before he burst a blood vessel or something, ruining his pretty face. “Hey, Draco, right?”

Draco inclined his head imperiously, “Yes, I am Draco Lucius Malfoy, Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Malfoy.”

Harry mouthed ‘heir to the...’ and rolled his eyes, “Well, Heir Draco Lucius Malfoy, I’m Harry James Potter, Scourge and general pain in everyone’s as…” Frank reached over and gripped his knee, hard, before he could finish his introduction. He shot the older man a sulky look. “I was just introducing myself, Frank.”

“Behave. We have shit to discuss. We don’t need you and your snarky ass comments to cause this kid to blow a fuckin’ gasket,” Frank muttered. Harry thought it was fairly hypocritical of Frank to swear at the table when _he_ was stopped. But he toned it down and merely shot Draco an impish smile.

Tom sighed loud enough to cause everyone at the table to give him their whole attention. “We do need to plan, young man. First, I must… apologize.” He looked briefly at Frank before continuing, “I might have been a bit… hasty with my assumptions in our conversation earlier. Apparently, I had not entirely taken into account your… feelings on this matter.”

Harry hummed and fixed Tom with a knowing look. “Huh, that's a change of tune from earlier. Yeah, I get it, though," he chuckled. "Frank has that effect on people. But, no worries, Tom. (Draco choked on his bite of food upon hearing Harry call him ‘Tom’.) We’re all good. I just want to get it all out there so that I can make the best decision about how to fuck this guy up.” He shot Frank a quick glance to see if he would get in trouble for swearing at the table then. Apparently not. Approval of swearing is subject to topic at hand… got it.

Frank sent him a sardonic half-smile and Tom cleared his throat. “I would like to start over with your options then, if that is amiable to all.” Harry nodded and Frank’s leather covered fist creaked. Tom’s eyes widened a little, probably remembering that fist closing around his neck, but he continued on, “As I said earlier, I am now considered your legal magical guardian.”

Frank’s voice grated out in interruption, “On paper.”

Nodding slightly, Tom clenched his jaw and agreed. “Yes, _on paper_. However, until we can work something out otherwise, I am considered the guardian according to the magical world and Gringotts. I will be happy to explain what that means, as well as explain the proxy voting in Wizengamot.”

Harry accepted this statement with a small wave of his hand. “Sure, I understand little to nothing about this shit. I’ll need all the help I can get. I want to make sure that my biological father’s wishes are followed from his will, but I don’t really get what that entails.”

Lucius chimed in, “Well, Mr. Scourge,” 

_“Jesus Christ, guys, it’s just fuckin’ ‘Harry’ or 'Scourge', no need to add the ‘Mr.’ in there.”_

“There are many different matters that come before the Wizengamot. Currently Albus Dumbledore has the majority on his side due to his illegal use of your votes and the backing of the House of Potter. If those votes were to swing to the gray or dark side, he would then lose the majority. I believe that is what My Lord is referring to. He would like you to verify that you _do_ want to stop all votes for the light side and back the gray faction totally. This will help those issues like werewolf rights, the rights of other dark creatures, and the secession of the bastardization of magic as we know it. Dumbledore is continuously attempting to bring in more and more muggle ways into our world, making the old ways illegal and dark. And, in turn, making those who want to follow the old ways considered dark wizards who should be persecuted.”

“Ah huh, okay. So, you want to take my votes and stop this whole take over of Wizengamot. Sure,” he looked at Frank for approval. Frank stared blankly back for a moment then barely dipped his head. “Okay, yeah. That sounds good. I want to take away all that this Dumbledore fuckhead has. And if it starts there, good. What else can we do? I know there has to be more.”

Tom peered over at Frank again before slowly speaking, “One option for you is to get the locations of the people involved, from both myself and those around this table. Once you have those names, you and your father can exact whatever punishment you see fit.”

Harry leaned back from the table and tapped his fingers on his knee. That sounded like a good plan. It was, after all, their usual forte. “What’s the other option?”

“You can attend Hogwarts next year, posing as a student. That way you can, with our help and information, slowly ruin Dumbledore and his minions. Then, once that has been achieved, you can finish your revenge as you see fit. I am not going to suggest that either way is better than the other, it is your choice as to which you decide to pursue. I will say that if you choose the first option, it _will_ be harder to establish yourself in the wizarding world as a Lord, if that is something that you wish to do.” Harry chuckled to himself. Tom was _obviously_ taking whatever he and Frank talked about to heart if he was being _this_ considering about his wording in the conversation.

Remus leaned forward, then, and interjected a thought, “Cub, your mum and dad wanted you to have the mantle of Lord when you were ready. Not before. If you’re not ready when you reach seventeen, that is fine. Padfoot, Severus and I will support you and help you learn whatever you need to learn for stepping into that role when you _do_ decide to take it on.”

He scrutinized the four men who had been at the will reading with Frank and him. “I have had a real fuckin’ good life with Frank, and I don’t want anyone to think otherwise.” He eyed Frank again and spoke mostly to him. “I think I want to do this, Frank. My birth parents asked me to take the family name and Lordship in their wills. I kinda want to follow their last request. And, as far as Dumblefuck goes, I think I want to make this the most epic fuckin’ sting operation that I’ve _ever_ done.” Drawing in a bolstering breath, he continued, “This is gonna be big, Frank, bigger than anything. I’ll have to train, just like Tom said up in the office. Yeah, he went about it wrong, but he _was_ right about one thing. If I’m gonna do this, it makes sense to stay here to train before I go in and do it.”

Frank sat there, imposing, arms crossed, face devoid of expression, as he listened to Harry explain his desires. Harry jiggled his leg while he waited for Frank to respond to his entreaty.

“Well kid,” he finally relented, “if this is what ya want, then this is what you’ll get.” He focused his piercing gaze on Tom. “You gonna do what you said earlier during our _chat_?”

Confused, Harry glanced between Frank and Tom. “What did he say?” He looked again at Tom, who had taken on a very serious look, and back at Frank, who sat there, smugly, with a smirk forming on his mouth. Harry grabbed Frank's arm. " _What did he say??_ "

Tom inhaled deeply, took his wand in his right hand, and raised it in the air. “I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, also known as the Dark Lord Voldemort, do solemnly swear on my magic that I will protect and guard one Harry James Potter as I train him to take on the mantle of Lord of the House of Potter, and also to exact his revenge on his enemies. As long as he is under my care, I will do my best to ensure that no harm should come to his person. I will treat him as an equal and take into consideration all of his desires and concerns before making any decisions regarding his training. At no time will I keep Harry James Potter from his father, Francis ‘Frank’ Castle, and I will not attempt to usurp any training, magical or muggle, that he has received before making this decision to move into the wizarding world. So say I, so mote it be.”

A brilliant flash surrounded Tom as he finished speaking. The rest of the occupants of the table gaped at him as he lowered his wand next to his plate. 

“Holy shit…” Sirius gasped. (Look at him using _real_ swear words. Harry was so proud.)

Paling a little, Remus breathed out, "Merlin’s sweaty ballsack." (Harry thought that a pretty bold statement coming from the mild-mannered man since 'Merlin' seemed to be the 'be-all and end-all' of swearwords to wizards.)

Lucius, king of the impassive face mask, had his jaw hanging open. Harry worried that flies might get in, if he thought that there _were_ any flies who would even attempt to infiltrate the stately manor. 

Draco whispered an awed, “Merlin’s beard.” He, much like his father, was openly shocked, with his gray eyes wide after witnessing the promise Tom made. His mother, sitting next to him, had raised her hand to cover her mouth in blatant disbelief.

“My Lord… you just…” Severus stopped his stuttering and just stared.

Tom fixed them all with a warning glare. “Yes, I swore on my magic. And you would do well to consider it also. Mr. Castle reminded me earlier that he is… kindly supporting us in this endeavor with his son. Although it is ultimately Harry’s choice, his father has suggested that we show just how _invested_ we are in aiding the young man in getting his revenge.” He looked down at his wand and stroked one finger down it. “I have no problem swearing to aid this young man. His goals and mine are one and the same. I know I will not fail, and, in turn, lose my magic.” He lifted a brow as he looked out at the group of wizards. “Can you say the same?”

Tom looked over to Harry and said, “I promise you, and your father as well, that I will do my best to help you with your revenge, young Harry. I might have suggested that I only wanted this for myself earlier, but you and I have much in common in regard to needing to pay that old wizard back. I was remiss when I spoke about not using your muggle ways, as your father informed me. I will be happy to merely add to your current repertoire of fighting techniques. I will also help you learn the spells and behaviors you will need to infiltrate Hogwarts, as to not arise suspicion in Dumbledore or his minions.”

Now Harry was gaping at Tom. “You fuckin’ promised on your magic? Like, you can lose it if you break your promise?”

Tom dipped his head slightly in agreement.

“ _NO FUCKIN’ WAY!_ I don’t want people to do that shit for me!” He turned to beg Frank, “Make ‘em stop! Tell them it’s ok. You don’t know what it’s like to have magic, Frank. I can’t even _imagine_ life without it. It would fuckin' kill me! Make ‘em take it back!” Harry cried out.

Frank raised both eyebrows to his hairline, “Kid, it’s their choice. Just like I always say, people make their own choices and live with the consequences. He just did it to show you how serious he was. And, honestly, it makes me feel better ‘bout all this shit.”

Harry sat back in his chair with a huff. He crossed his arms across his chest and glared petulantly at the table. “Non volevo che lo promettessero, però. Un semplice contratto di contatto, come abbiamo fatto con tutti gli altri, sarebbe stato abbastanza buono,”(1) he mumbled. ( _“Didn’t want them to promise that, though. A simple contact contract, like we have with all the others, would have been good enough.”_ ) 

Gripping one of his shoulders to twist Harry around to face him, Frank said, “No, non lo sarebbe. Questa è una situazione sconosciuta con giocatori sconosciuti. Non entreremo in questo alla cieca. Ho promesso quando ti avrò preso che ti avrei protetto con la mia vita. Se questo significa che queste persone giurano su qualcosa a cui tengono vicino e caro, allora è quello che farò. Affrontarla."(1) ( _“No, it wouldn’t. This is an unknown situation with unknown players. We will not go into this blindly. I promised when I got you that I would protect you with my life. If that means havin' these people swear on somethin’ they hold near and dear, then that’s what I’ll fuckin’ do. Deal with it.”_ )

He reached a big hand up and ruffled Harry’s hair before tracing a finger down his scar and flicking him on the nose. “Ora smettila di essere una piccola stronza e facciamo un po 'di pianificazione.”(1) ( _“Now, stop being a little bitch and let's get some planning done.”_ )

Draco eyed him suspiciously, “Just _how many_ languages do you speak?”

Harry smirked, “More than one, less than fifty?”

Draco threw his hands in the air and sniffed in frustration. “Fine! Don’t tell me.”

“Leave pretty boy alone, kid. We need to figure out our next move,” Frank admonished.

“Stop calling me that!” Draco exclaimed shrilly.

Ignoring Draco’s outcry, Tom pressed forward. “Yes, young Harry, we should figure out what you wish to do. Your father informed me that you spend the school years with your Dr. Strange. If it is agreeable to everyone, the offer is still open for you to stay here for the school year this year. You can be tutored in the manor by myself and my Death Eaters on how to perform spells with a wand. Even though you have no need for one, you will have to put on a show for them when you arrive at Hogwarts. This will include using a wand.” He gestured to Severus, Sirius, Remus and Lucius. “Each one of us will take a part of your training and teach you all we can in the next ten months.”

Here, Tom stopped and looked over at Frank then back at Harry. “I have been informed that you both are usually nomadic during the summers, spending them in different homes and countries depending on your current workload. I think that it will not be a problem for you to continue with that pattern.”

Harry took in a deep breath. He glanced inquiringly at Frank. “Where will you be when I'm here?”

“Here and there. I’ll be here for the first little while to make sure that everyone is… behavin’. But, just like when you’re with Dr. Strange, I’ll be out on missions every once in a while. You know those tights wearin’ assholes can’t find their ass from a hole in the ground sometimes. But I’ll never be further than a text.”

Okay, he could deal with that. It wouldn’t be all that different than a normal year. As he came to terms with what everyone had said, he felt a calm come over him. Harry let a vicious smile form on his face as he realized that a plan was genuinely coming together. He was going to do this. _They_ were going to do this. Watch out Fuckledore, _The Scourge_ is comin’!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Languages Used (Translated with Google Translate):  
> 1. Italian


	23. On a Year in Training (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry moves into Malfoy Manor, introduces his best friend to Tom, _tries_ to keep his patience, and learns some manners. Not necessarily in that order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day! Enjoy another chapter. I still can’t believe how many people are following along with this stupid indulgent story. Thanks for stickin’ with me, and thanks for showin’ me you’re enjoying it. 😊

_Watch out Fuckledore, The Scourge is comin’!_

**\--- August, 1996 (Sixteen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Diagon Alley ---**

Harry and Frank moved into the manor a couple days after the Great Planning Breakfast of 1996TM. Frank had spent those days looking through the whole manor, ensuring that there were no potential dangers or threats. Lucius and Tom took it all in stride. (Harry figured it might have something to do with the fact that any time someone suggested that Frank calm down, they were met with a gun to the forehead or a knife shoved into their side. But he could be wrong.)

Finally, their rooms were chosen and set with the protections that Frank felt comfortable with. Harry added a few subtle magical protections that Dr. Strange had taught him, drawing runes on the doorways and around the windows. _If_ someone managed to get past all of their traps, and shit went sideways, then the whole place would light up and they would be able to kill the fuck out of whoever broke in. All in all, Harry felt pretty safe there.

Once they had settled in, Tom and Lucius decided it was time for Harry to embrace wizarding fashion.

_“You guys… I do not want to wear a dress! Can’t I just stay in my tac pants, boots and black t-shirt? It's kinda my trademark, you know. Like Frank. And where the fuck would I put all my weapons? What about keeping my black leather coat? I mean, that’s kinda like your robes…” Harry groaned from where he had flopped on one of the couches, flinging his arm over his eyes in defeat._

_Lucius observed his tantrum for a moment before sniffing and sweeping out of the room. “A Lord is always dressed befitting his station, Mr. Scourge,” he declared as he walked down the hallway._

_“GAAAAaaaahhh! It’s just Scourge!! You guys say this shit on purpose! Frank!!!!!!”_

He was first taken (read: dragged against his will) to a shop in Diagon Alley called Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. He didn’t think that they had a specific robe for the occasion of him and Frank blowing up some terrorist base in one of the countries ending in '-istan’(1), but hey… maybe they were open to expanding their merchandise offerings.

Lucius and Tom (in his magical disguise) had promised that he would not be bothered in the store by any gawkers or nosy wizards and witches. They were right… apparently in order to get some peace and quiet while shopping, all one has to do is rent out _the whole fuckin’ store._ Fuckin’ rich people, Harry thought as he rolled his eyes.

He stood there, being measured, poked, prodded, and watching some tape measure float around his head. He almost wished it would float around his neck and tighten itself into a noose. Grumbling about the injustice of it all, he watched as Tom and Lucius enjoyed their tea from the couch, commenting on what would look best on the future Lord.

_”Blues? Picture him in a dark navy hue. Hmmm, no, I don’t think so. Would a lovely green bring out his eyes? Oh! Silver would be so regal and is well suited to his new station as Heir.”_

Oh, how he wished he had brought his favorite knives to put himself out of his own misery... just _kill him now_. They’d better just stick him in fuckin’ black, is what they'd better do. _Goddamn it_ … he needed to shoot somethin’.

_(Scourge) 10:12_

> fuk my life save me 

_(Miyagi) 10:14_

> suck it up kid 

_(Scourge) 10:14_

> this is legit torture 

_(Miyagi) 10:16_

> youll look pretty in ur new clothes 

_(Scourge) 10:21_

> a good dad wuldnt make fun

_(Miyagi) 10:22_

> the best dad points n laughs 

_(Scourge) 10:23_

> i shuld hve txtd dead he wuld hve cared :(

_(Miyagi) 10:25_

> doubtful he would have taken pictures n sent em to everyone 

_(Scourge) 10:26_

> fuk ur right dam it 

_(Scourge) 10:26_

> if i kill myslf dont let dead do my funeral 

_(Miyagi) 10:29_

> here lies scourge died of a bitch fit

_(Scourge) 10:30_

> worst...dad...ever 

**\----------**

Their next stop was Olivanders Wand Shop. An ancient man stood behind the desk peering curiously at the three of them as they walked through the door. The shop was empty of other people, but was filled with boxes upon boxes stacked on dusty shelves.

_“Ah, Mr. Riddle and guests, welcome back to Olivanders. It has been too long. Let’s see, 13½" long, crafted from yew, and affixed with a phoenix feather core, I believe,” he murmured._

_“Mr. Olivander,” Tom dipped his head in greeting._

_Looking at Lucius, Olivander nodded slowly, “And our esteemed Lord Malfoy, it seems just yesterday… 18” long, crafted from… elm, if I remember correctly… and I rarely forget, with a dragon heartstring core.”_

_His glazed stare then settled on Harry. “And, young Mr. Potter.” Harry’s eyes widened in surprise. They hadn’t even been introduced. How the fuck did this guy know who he was? Was he like that Luna chick? “Hmm, most curious. Yes, Mr. Potter, most curious indeed. I can see that you do not need to be here. You have no need for a wand. Why is it that you even came?”_

_Tom interjected smoothly, “We are training him in wizarding magic and thought that he would benefit from practicing with one, Mr. Olivander.”_

Olivander scrutinized Tom, trying to ascertain if what he said was truth. Apparently judging him and finding him truthful, he proceeded to assist Harry in getting a wand. He had Harry pass his hand over different woods and touch cores that could potentially be put into his wand. He measured his arm, finger to elbow, and hummed low under his breath. Stepping back he shook his head. He instructed them to wait and went to the back of his shop. After a while, he emerged with a long pale box.

_“You are a most intriguing young man, Mr. Potter,” he mused._

_“Yes, I’ve heard that before,” Harry snorted. Tom sighed deeply behind him._

_“I have never seen a wand quite like this before. Half blackthorn wood and half fir, twisted together around a singed phoenix feather core. One that is the brother to the core of the wand belonging to our young Mr. Riddle here. This wand will be strong for a warrior, Mr. Potter, as the blackthorn provides both strength and defense. Wands made from this wood need to pass through danger or hardship with their owners to become truly bonded. The fir wood comes from the most resilient of trees. This wood favors a wizard who has persevered and overcome, he or she is strong-minded and leans toward an intimidating demeanor.”_

_Harry snorted under his breath. He was ‘intimidating’ alright._

_“Finally, it is the singed phoenix core that gives me most pause. Although an unblemished phoenix feather is capable of the greatest range of magic, to have a singed feather shows a penchant for stronger, and even more violent magic, yet not necessarily dark arts. Yes, you are a most interesting case, Mr. Potter. It will be intriguing to see where you take this wand… and where this wand takes you.”_

Well… _that_ was fuckin’ creepy.

**\----------**

**\--- September, 1996 (Sixteen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Malfoy Manor ---**

Narcissa tried. After her own son left for his year at school, she took one look at the boy, with the streaked mohawk and grubby black clothes with too many weapons strapped to him, and she _tried_. Harry felt sorry for her as she took him in hand for the beginning of his lessons on the proper decorum of a Lord in the wizarding world. It wasn’t like he didn’t _want_ this whole plan to work. It wasn't like he didn't _want_ to learn… it was just… there were _so many_ pompous rules and etiquette faux pas. Aaaaannnd, he managed to goof almost all of them within the _first half hour_ of trying to learn from her.

She finally got frustrated enough, with his lack of any training, that she huffed out a short breath and drew her lips into a line. Apparently this was a fierce facial expression for the Malfoy gentry to make when their masks finally cracked. She went over to a shelf, grabbed a small black book and handed it to him.

_“Mr. Scourge,” she started._

_“Are we still seriously saying the Mr.??” Harry whined._

_She looked back at him banally, “We are in polite society, Mr. Scourge. We will act accordingly. You will act accordingly. This is a book given to every heir on their sixth birthday, detailing what is expected of them in the coming years. We have lost many years of training with you. However, it is my belief that we can still get you trained enough to qualify as a passable Heir to the House of Potter.”_

_Harry took the book and sighed, “Fine.”_

_“Do I need to inform Our Lord that you are having difficulties with following instruction?” Harry was tempted to stick his tongue out at her. “Or better yet, Mr. Castle?”_

_Fuck._

_“No, ma’am, I will read this tonight and try my best to get this shit down.”_

_She stared at him for a moment before responding coolly, “You can start by reducing the amount of muggle swear words you utter in polite company.”_

_“Fuck, right, sorry… shit… ah, goddamn it. Promise I’ll do better tomorrow,” Harry said as he thumped his head down on the book._

So, manners and etiquette were going well…

_Harry looked down at his place setting. There were so many forks. Who needed that many forks for one dinner? Wade and he used to share a giant bowl of spaghetti and sit on the couch, each with a plastic fork, while watching the latest Simpsons episode. Seriously… so many forks._

_“Work from the outside in, Mr. Scourge,” Narcissa instructed. Harry had given up on the 'Mr.' shit. At this point it was ‘what-the-fuck-ever she wanted to call him’._

_He felt like Beast in Beauty and the Beast, except there was no compromise of him lifting his plate to slurp his porridge. And, although there was magic all around him, the candlesticks had yet to burst into song. No, no songs, no fun Disney story... There was just him, sitting there awkwardly, with an appropriately placed napkin, learning the art of polite conversation, while trying to guess what fuckin’ fork to use._

Fuck his life. God, he needed a night out with Wade.

**\----------**

**\--- Malfoy Manor, Lord Voldemort's Office ---**

Tom and Harry sat in Tom’s office after a day full of lessons on the appropriate ways of acting in the wizarding world. (This was getting to be a bit of an overload, if you asked Harry.) They were discussing his entrance into Hogwarts and the best course of action regarding declaring who he was.

_“I believe the best thing would be to go under a pseudonym,” Tom mused as he stared into his fireplace. “Although I would love to see the old goat’s face when you introduce yourself as Harry Potter, I think that for your purposes it would be better if you went incognito.”_

_“Yeah, that works for me. I have lots of different names and papers I can use for identification. Frank and I sometimes needed to get a little ‘creative’ with going across borders,” Harry snickered._

_“How positively enchanting,” he replied, drolly._

_“Hey! I like Henry Castiglione the best, my little morbid Mini-Menace. It works with the whole mysterious Italian man of mystery vibe you have going on here. Besides, Frank’ll love that you honor him that way,” came a very familiar voice from atop one of Tom’s shelves._

Before Harry had a chance to say ‘wait’, Tom had shot an _avada kedavra_ in the direction the voice came. Harry groaned as he watched flailing red arms and legs, then heard the telltale thump of a lifeless body fall to the ground. Fuck, he hoped that they hadn’t found the _one thing_ that could finally kill Wade.

But they hadn’t. He popped up from his spot on the ground and rubbed his chest.

_“Who are you,” Tom growled menacingly._

_“Who am I? Don’t worry about me. I’ve already been introduced in this book. Everyone knows who I am. Let’s talk about you! My, my, Lord Voldieshorts! You look so much better than you do in the books! Did you know you were a no-nose? I mean… seriously… who’s gonna get any action without a nose? And going all crazy with those horcrux thingies. Bad juju there, Moldyfart. Just bad.” Wade glanced at the reader before continuing, “Good thing this is a fanfic where all of that nonsense can be completely changed, and we don’t have to deal with canon. Ugh, so many issues with canon. And here, in this fantasy land… we can all be friends!” Wade rambled on._

_Harry sighed and attempted to introduce him, but was interrupted by Tom._

_“What did you call me? No-nose?? Moldyfart??? And just how did you get in here?”_

_Wade looked at Harry, then at Tom, then out at the reader… “Why, the author wrote me in here, of course. Duh! The book was lacking for comic relief in this chapter. So, she figured that I should pop in, say a few lines… apparently die. Thanks for that, by the way. Give our little Baby Scourge a hug in support of all he’s doing, then be on my way to wreak havoc elsewhere in the MCU.”_

_Tom’s jaw was almost hitting his chest by the end of Wade’s speech. Harry shook his head in defeat. “Tom, meet Wade. Otherwise known as Deadpool. Decent guy, little crazy, great in a fight. And really, really hard to kill.” Harry fixed Wade with a small glare, “Learn to fuckin’ knock, asshole. Not everyone is okay with you just popping in.”_

_Wade pouted._

_Looking down at his wand in confusion and back at Wade, Tom spluttered, “I killed you. I shot the killing curse at you and you died.”_

_“Yep. It tickled. Don’t worry, I got better.” He stretched his arms to the side and spun in a circle. “All good. And lookin’ damn good, if I do say so myself.” He wiggled his rear in Harry’s direction and winked at Tom through his mask… or what looked like a wink. Harry never knew._

So, Harry got his new name for when school started the next year. They did decide to go with Henry Castiglione so that he could still have the nickname Harry. Also, he was fluent in Italian and could pass himself off as an Italian Heir who studied in America then transferred when he found out the relationship with the Potter family. He smiled nostalgically when he thought of the first time that he used that name, back when Frank picked him up. It had served him well then, it would serve him well again.

**\----------**

**\--- Malfoy Manor, Harry's Room ---**

Harry sat in his room with Frank one night after they had been in the manor for almost a month. Frank was asking him about his training and what he had learned. He gave Harry a small smile when Harry described learning manners.

_“Frank, did you know that there is a separate spoon and fork for everything??? Not just a package of plasticware you get from K-Mart? It’s ridiculous!”_

He told of how he and Tom decided on a new name for when he started school. Tom had already filed the paperwork with Gringotts to show that he will have two legal names, just in case anyone checks when he shows up there. As his magical guardian, Tom was able to seal the file on ‘Harry Potter’ and make it so that only Henry Castiglione showed up on any magical records.

Harry showed him the wand and told Frank about all the Latin that he was learning when he practiced using it.

_“It’s hard to explain. I mean, it feels right using this wand. But it also feels right not using it. I guess it will have to be a situational thing. I’m just glad I have the option, unlike almost everyone else in the wizarding world. Apparently wandless magic is hard,” he shrugged._

Frank told him of his missions that he had been on lately, helping out the X-Men with some issues.

_Frank grunted, “It’s goin’ ok. Miss havin’ you at my back. Went out with Patch ‘n Deadpool last week. Only killed Deadpool once. New record, I think.”_

_Harry grinned at him, “Wow, old man, good for you, being all sweet 'n showing restraint.”_

_Snorting softly, Frank pushed Harry so he fell back on the bed. “Yeah, I think I might be mellowing with age.”_

_“Oh yeah, that’s mellow alright,” Harry snickered, rolling his eyes._

Yeah, training was going okay, and he and Frank were doing just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **1. **I do not mean to offend anyone by mentioning 'countries that end in _-istan_ '. I am merely generalizing an area where Harry and Frank might have done missions at one time.****
> 
> Movies/TV Referenced/Quoted:
> 
>   1. The Simpsons (TV: 1989 – Present)
>   2. Beauty and the Beast (Disney 1991)
> 

> 
> \- Also, thanks to Wolfess who gave me a small idea to kill Wade with an AK. After she asked me if it would kill him, I just couldn't get the image of him getting murdered by Voldie out of my head... so, thanks! -


	24. On a Year in Training (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry shares with Severus, attends a meeting, learns politics, and practices magical first aid. Not necessarily in that order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back with Harry and his year of training. I skim over some things, but we can all assume that he is getting the best fighting/wizarding training that he should be getting. After all, Tom _did_ promise on his magic. 
> 
> Thanks, as always, for reading my tale.

_Yeah, training was going okay, and he and Frank were doing just fine._

**\--- October, 1996 (Sixteen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Malfoy Manor ---**

Severus stood by Harry as they looked at the bonfire roaring in the back portion of the Malfoy properties. Death Eaters, family members, and even Frank, surrounded the fire, but all were shrouded in dark cloaks, hiding their faces from the others. They were there to celebrate the end of harvest season and the beginning of winter, Samhain. There would be a feast with those who knew Harry and Frank were living at the manor later, however this first gathering brought all of Tom’s followers together. 

There was more power in numbers, Severus told Harry. Mother magic blesses those who gather together and honor her. Death accepts sacrifices more readily when more congregate and gift him with the respect and reverence he is due. If he accepts the sacrifice, he will allow those congregated to visit with the souls of the lost.

_“I’m not sure what we’re supposed to be doing here, Severus. I get that this is a Halloween celebration, but it’s way weirder than any that I’ve ever seen. There’s even a fake ritual sacrifice over there,” Harry pointed out a figure made of straw being burnt over the bonfire._

_Severus looked around at the group of Death Eaters present, each communing in their own way with mother magic and death. All of them trying to reach someone who was lost to the physical world._

_“It is Samhain, Harry, not Halloween. Tonight, the boundary between this world and the otherworld is thinned, meaning the lost souls can more easily come into our world. It is the one time of year when we are able to talk with those who have passed over the veil. The one time we can ensure that they are happy and at peace,” Severus told Harry quietly._

_“Are you going to try to talk to my birth mom?” Harry asked tentatively._

_“Always.”_

Later that night, after the feast was done and Frank and he had retired to their rooms, Harry rifled through the items that Frank had brought back for him from the states. He grabbed the black books and the pin, then slowly made his way down the halls of the manor to the room that Severus was staying that evening.

He knocked on the door and a quiet voice beckoned him inside.

_Handing Severus the items, Harry ducked his head in embarrassment. “I think that you should be the one to have these. I mean, she meant more to you than anyone. I can tell. I can’t imagine if I lost Frank, and I feel like that’s probably what you might be going through, or somethin’.”_

_Severus reverently took the books, drawing his fingers down one of the front covers slowly, then thumbing through the first few pages. He sucked in a quick breath as he read the words Harry’s mother had written so many years ago. In his other hand, he fiddled with the small pin in the shape of a lily._

_He looked up from the books with a sheen of tears in his dark eyes. “Thank you, young Harry," his voice rasped emotionally. " Thank you. I will treasure them for the rest of my days.”_

_Harry scratched the back of his neck and toed the carpet with one of his combat boots. He averted his eyes and mumbled, “Yep, no problem. Uh, I’ll just be going back to my room now. Just, um, enjoy the books, or whatever.”_

Frank said that Severus probably needed those things more than Harry ever would. Frank knew that kind of shit. He had experienced loss greater than Harry could ever imagine, because he _still_ carried the wedding ring that his wife had worn before her death, stitched into his Kevlar vest. He understood.

Harry wondered if he would ever feel like he needed to carry something like that. If so, it would probably be a special weapon from someone… hopefully not Frank.

**\----------**

**\--- November, 1996 (Sixteen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Malfoy Manor, Lord Lucius Malfoy's Office ---**

Lucius droned on, and on, _and on_ about the history of Wizengamot and each of the Houses represented within. He told Harry about the different factions: light, gray, and, of course, dark. He explained, _in minute detail_ , the ins and outs of the voting process, the proper order of events… and every frickin’ name of anyone who had _ever_ walked into the damn building… ever. Harry’s brain was melting.

_“And one of the current issues being brought forth before the Wizengamot today, Mr. Scourge, is the misuse of muggle artifacts by those under the age of 80 years. It is the opinion of the gray side, as well as the dark, that this bill should be passed, due to the age limit. The light side is pushing for a no bill or down vote.” He paused and looked over to where Harry had his head laying down on the desk. “Are you paying attention, Mr. Scourge? This is very important to the future dealings with muggle items. If we allow the misuse of these items by those who do not understand what they are dealing with, there is no telling what could happen to the future of the wizarding world.”_

_Harry lifted one arm and gave Lucius a thumbs up, without lifting his forehead from where it rested against the desk. “Yep, payin’ attention over here. Every word you say is riveting. I’m barely hangin’ on to my seat. Can’t fuckin’ contain my excitement.”_

_(Scourge) 07:12_

> so booorrrinngg 

_(Miyagi) 07:12_

> pay attn this is important 

_(Scourge) 07:13_

> i h8 politics

_(Miyagi) 07:13_

> they hate u 

_(Miyagi) 07:14_

> u gonna whine some more or study?

_(Scourge) 07:15_

> shit lucy can c me txtng 

_(Scourge) 07:16_

> save me 

_(Miyagi) 07:17_

> lesson not just karate only

_(Miyagi) 07:18_

> lesson also politics

_(Scourge) 07:18_

> fuk ttyl hes pissed 

_(Miyagi) 07:19_

> ill get a body bag

_(Scourge) 07:20_

> not…funny 

During one of these times of studying with Lucius, Tom walked through the room in his ‘going out in public’ magical disguise. He had morphed himself into a man with longer lighter brown hair, pale green eyes and slightly darker skin. They had established the story of him being a distant relative who was voting proxy for the Castiglione family (who had taken over the Potter seats.) Harry whistled at him and sent him a wink.

_“Wowie! Look at you all pretty ‘n shit. Tom you look…” Harry kissed his fingers and sent him a small wave, “positively delicious. Kinda miss the red eyes though.”_

_Tom turned and shot Harry a spiteful look, “You know, Lucius, I do believe that young master Harry's education has been neglected in certain areas. We would not want him to feel like we were not giving him our best efforts.” One side of his mouth lifted in a cruel smile. “I do believe you should spend the day focusing on the seating chart of the Wizengamot, from origin to present day. That should make up for him spending so much time missing my looks as Lord Voldemort. Make sure to include those who defected to different sides as the years progressed.”_

_“Noooooo! Tom, I take it back! I’m sorry! Please… please don’t make me listen to that shit. Anything but that,” Harry begged from his seat at the desk, clasping his hands together in desperate prayer._

_Tom merely smirked and swirled his robes as he turned to leave the room._

_“Fine,” Harry grumbled, “fuck you too…”_

He learned it, though. Backwards. Forwards. Up and down. He could name all of the Lords and Ladies by look, by House, and toward the end of his instruction, probably by the way they wiped their asses. He was burnt out on Wizengamot… but he knew about it at least, and would be comfortable enough to discuss any issue with any party member he came in contact with.

**\----------**

**\--- Malfoy Manor, Dungeons ---**

Frank had come back from a mission and Harry was so excited to show him all that he was learning from Sirius and Remus. He dragged Frank down into the dungeons of the manor where there was a volunteer (read: not a volunteer) waiting so that Harry could demonstrate all that he had learned.

_“Frank! Come on! You’re gonna think this is so fuckin’ cool. You know how my magic doesn’t really heal shit? Well, Sirius and Remus have been teachin’ me some healin’ spells that I can use with my wand. I didn’t think it would work at first, ‘cus my wand kept kinda fightin’ me, or it felt like it. But I finally got it down!” Harry gushed as he pulled the serious, imposing mercenary through the dungeon halls._

_He pointed at a cell where a pudgy, small, rat-like man was hunkered down in the corner. He had a grubby look about him and let out squeaky whimpers as Harry and Frank advanced._

_“Watch,” Harry said proudly, as he pointed his wand at the man. “ Diffindo.” A small cut appeared on the man’s arm as he cried out in pain. Harry pointed his wand again, “Episkey.”_

_They watched as the wound closed, knitting itself back together. Harry turned to Frank in excitement, “See?? So fuckin’ cool! Here, let me try a bigger one…”_

_The man whimpered louder, cowering away from Harry in fear. Frank contemplated him impassively as Harry fired off another cutting curse, slicing his arm down to the bone this time. Frank observed as Harry pointed his wand, whispering ‘ episkey’ under his breath. He lifted one brow as he watched blood pouring down the man’s arm, waiting for Harry’s spell to close up the cut. Harry whispered again, more forcefully. He finally waved his wand with an extra flourish and proclaimed the spell loudly in the room, with no results._

_Harry turned and gave Frank a sheepish look, “I guess I should go get Tom or Remus to fix this.” He glanced at the man in the corner who looked like he was going to faint. “Hang on a sec, Peter, put some pressure on it or somethin’.”_

_Frank shook his head and snorted._

**\----------**

**\--- December, 1996 (Sixteen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Malfoy Manor ---**

Tom _finally_ decided that it was time for Harry to be introduced to the Death Eaters. He would not be introduced as Harry Potter, but instead as his new identity as Henry ‘Harry’ Castiglione. Harry was intrigued about the all the happenings that occurred during meetings with all of Tom’s followers. He had previously passed by the ballroom when there were meetings of the inner circle, however he was still not allowed to join in those due to potential safety issues.

Now, however, everyone dealing with Harry’s training felt secure enough with him being introduced to the Death Eaters as a whole (while masked), and then later to the inner circle (unmasked). He was actually pretty excited at the prospect. 

_(Scourge) 20:37_

> going 2 deth eter mtg 2night 

_(Dead) 20:39_

> fun! cannibalism not my jam but enjoy! 

_(Scourge) 20:39_

> *sigh* thts ther name fukwad

_(Dead) 20:40_

> sounds ominous 

_(Dead) 20:41_

> u get a mask finally?

_(Scourge) 20:42_

> its blk n silver 

_(Scourge) 20:42_

> coolr thn red

_(Dead) 20:43_

> lies!

_(Scourge) 20:46_

> gtg lucy bitchin bout me gttng set up

_(Dead) 20:47_

> hve fun storming the castle! 

_(Scourge) 20:48_

> do u think ill make it?

_(Dead) 20:51_

> it wuld take a miracle 

Harry took his place up on the dais next to Tom’s chair (read: extremely ornate throne *eye-roll*) and looked out over the sea of black robes and Death Eater masks. He was surprised at the sheer amount of people in attendance. He had seen the group at Samhain; however, he had not realized that there were _so many_ , since on that night they were spread out and it was dark.

He could see the inner circle’s robes, lined with distinct silver instead of pure black, gathered toward the front of the dais. He recognized the forms of Lucius, Severus, Sirius and Remus off to the left. There were a few that he couldn’t recognize by look, but he was sure that by the end of the night they would all be well acquainted. 

He scanned the room again, looking for Frank. Harry had told him that he was going to be involved in his first meeting, and Frank… well, he was there to make sure that nothing shady happened to his kid. He had cut his mission with Logan short so that he could come observe. He was currently leaning against the wall toward the back of the room, arms crossed, one ankle crossed over the other in a seemingly relaxed pose, as his deadpan stare took in the meeting. He stood next to a gruff looking shirtless man who actually resembled a _much taller_ Logan.

The Death Eaters stopped murmuring (probably talking about the presence of Harry, a complete unknown to them, next to their Lord's throne) when Tom entered the room and sat down.

_“I will have quiet, and we will begin with reports,” Tom decreed._

_One by one, he called the Death Eaters forward to report on happenings in the wizarding world, the Wizengamot and the Ministry. Those who did not have favorable reports were threatened with punishment, and in some cases actually punished with a crucio, if what they said was deemed not worthy of Tom’s time._

_“I am both pleased with some of you and disappointed in some, as I am sure that you have gathered.” He looked over at Harry and continued in his silky voice, “The last order of business this evening, before I release the outer circle, is the introduction of a new Death Eater. Although he is not marked, he is one of us. He will be treated with as much respect as I am given. Do not assume, by his apparent youth, that he is unable to defend himself if one tries to take issue with him. He is to be known simply as Scourge. You will not attempt to know him otherwise. I stress that any act taken against Scourge will be seen as a direct act against your Lord.” _

_He paused again (probably for dramatic effect, fuckin’ drama queen), and intoned, “You are dismissed. Inner circle stay.”_

Harry, Frank, the guy not dressed in robes who was standing next to Frank, and the rest of the Death Eater inner circle waited until the outer circle had left, before they all sat at a table in the room adjoining the ballroom. Tom sat at the head, with Lucius at his right hand. Harry was given the spot to his left. Frank, refusing a seat, as was usual whenever they were in a new environment, stood next to Harry’s chair.

Those at the table had removed their masks, with the exception of Harry, and were eyeing him speculatively. Harry considered that they might just be worried about what the mask would reveal when it was removed. He snickered to himself… yes, they might just faint at the sight of _The Scourge_.

Frank observed his slightly shaking shoulders and tapped his boot with his, in question. Harry glanced his way and shrugged, whispering, “羊はとても怖いように見えます”(1) ( _“The sheep look so scared.”_ )

Frank grunted, looking at the occupants of the table then back to Harry. “あなたは集中し続けます”(1) ( _“You stay focused.”_ )

Harry snorted, “Hai, Mr. Miyagi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Languages Used (Translated with Google Translate):  
> 1. Japanese
> 
> Movies Quoted/Referenced:  
> 
> 
>   1. The Karate Kid (1984)
>   2. The Princess Bride (1987) - Only the _best_ movie ever made!
> 



	25. On a Year in Training (Part III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets the inner circle, 'discusses' the usefulness of knives with Bellatrix, and celebrates ~~Christmas~~ Yule

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy chimichanga, guys! December 1996 apparently took on a life of its own in Harry's year of training. And, I _do_ enjoy a decent grumpy Harry. Enjoy! Also... as always... thanks for kudos/comments/love.
> 
>  **Trigger Warnings** in end notes.

_Harry snorted, “Hai, Mr. Miyagi.”_

**\--- December, 1996 (Sixteen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Malfoy Manor, Death Eater Inner Circle Meeting ---**

Before the meeting could get underway, Lucius’ house elf Mipsy popped in with a missive for Tom. He and Lucius stepped away from the table to hold their own conversation while the rest of the Death Eaters sat at the table, waiting for the two to finish and return.

Sirius spent the time pulling faces at Harry in an attempt to make him giggle, Remus spent the time trying to get Sirius to stop. Severus, sighing in exasperation, spent the time reviewing some potion texts that he _never_ seemed to be without. The man seriously needed to get a hobby besides potions.

Harry, also bored out of his mind waiting for Tom and Lucius to finish up their conversation, sat there fiddling with his knives. Frank no longer held onto his shoulder, and instead had crossed his arms behind himself at a relaxed pose of parade rest.

Pulling out his phone he quickly shot a text off, before Frank could bitch at him for not paying attention. (Even though there was _nothing_ to pay attention to right then.)

_(Scourge) 21:51_

> the mtg is lame 

_(Scourge) 21:51_

> politics n shit 

_(Scourge) 21:52_

> no killng u wuld b bored 

_(Dead) 21:53_

> i culd come? brng pointy swrds?? brng patch n claws n hve paarrrtay 

_(Scourge) 21:53_

> nah *snort* heyy gtg sum bitch is sid eyeng me

_(Dead) 21:54_

> yay! fight! hve fun! i <3 bludshed ;) 

Before he could say anything to the glaring woman who was sitting at the table, Frank hit him lightly on the head. “Put that shit away ‘n talk to Dead later. You’re a guest at a fuckin’ meeting. Act like it.”

Huffing petulantly, he put his phone away in his pants. (He _had not_ given up his tac pants and boots. And they could get his weapons from him when they could pry them from his cold, dead hands. But he _did_ cover the whole thing with a black wizarding robe, in deference to Tom’s wishes. He would have been happier in his leather coat, though. Maybe he could get Lucius to take him to a tailoring shop so that they can get leather wizarding robes made. That would be cool.)

The woman with curly, frizzy black hair and a wild look in her eyes, finally spoke scornfully, “Well, well, bitty baby Deff Eater wannabe. You look barely old enough to know how to cast a spell, let alone kill somewone.” She glared at Frank, who had tensed beside him at the onset of her speech. “And a muggle? You dawre disgwace this hallowed mweeting with a muggle? We should spwill _his_ blood and offer it to the Dark Lord just for your insolence.”

Sirius’ head popped up when the woman spoke, and he waved his hand wildly for her to stop talking. Remus let out a long sigh and dropped his head into his hand with the knowledge of the carnage that was more than likely to come. Severus, usually the most staid and cool of them all, merely glanced at Harry and whispered, “Merlin no, fuck. Don’t threaten the man…” (Harry was kinda proud that he and Frank had been such a _great_ influence on these guys’ vocabularies. He hoped that more wizards and witches brought real swearwords into their day to day speech soon. Life goals!)

Harry’s hand went immediately to his knives and he rose fluidly from the chair, instinctually forming battle positions with Frank. Frank tapped his code for _‘careful’_ and Harry sent back the hand motion for _‘fuck ‘em up’_. Harry figured he was going to win this silent conversation with Frank because _no one_ , especially not some random ass wild lookin’ bitch, threatens Frank where he can hear it. This woman needed to learn some _manners_ , ‘cus apparently Tom hadn’t taught her any. And Harry? Well, he had _no problem_ being the one to beat some into her. (Never let it be said that he was sexist or discriminated against women... he considered that everyone who deserved to get their ass kicked, should.)

“The fuck you say, bitch?” Harry snarled as he heard a sigh and Frank's Kimber cock behind him.

She bristled and stood from her chair with her wand out, pointed in their direction. Tom and Lucius had stopped their conversation in the corner, but before Lucius could intercede in the situation, Tom stopped him. Fuckin’ dictatorial asshole, always wanting to see what happens with his minions.

“You need to learn some manners, wittle man. I’ll be _happy_ to teach them to you,” she mocked with her baby talk. It was an odd contradiction of things coming out of her mouth, with the obviously scornful words, and the use of the baby talk. It rubbed Harry the wrong way. He had the feeling that he and this woman _would not_ get along.

Frank snorted behind him and stepped to the side. The sound of him uncocking his Kimber filled the room. He gestured with a slight of hand, agreeing that this was _Harry’s_ fight. He gave small nod, allowing Harry to continue. 

Severus tried to interrupt the altercation before it, no doubt, devolved into blood spilling on Lucius’ pristine marble floors. “Bellatrix,” he smoothly intervened, “you do _not_ want to do this.” He glanced tentatively at Harry who was primed for combat. “I urge you to reconsider. _Remember_ what Our Lord said.”

“My Lord would _nwever_ let someone _lower_ than a _mudblood_ attend a meeting. Who is this… new member that has been allowed to join our estweemed circle of Death Eaters? I have not seen or heard of Scwourge before.” Bellatrix spat. 

Lifting a quizzical brow in her direction, Severus shrugged with a sigh. He glanced between Harry and Bella, then over to Tom, who still watched the interaction with an impassive face and curious red eyes. “It is your funeral, Bellatrix. However, remember that I did caution you against your actions,” he warned. 

Harry had calmed his body and centered himself for a fight while the woman and Severus were having their side conversation. He glanced over at Tom and said lowly, “Just so you know, Tom, I’m 'a fuck this Elizabeth Frankenstein wannabe bitch _up_. Speak now if you wanna save her ass.”

Tom looked at between Harry and Bellatrix. He imperiously waved his hand in consent, “By all means, Scourge, defend the honor of your father.”

Bellatrix’s lip curled into a cruel semblance of a smile. “Oooh, Scwourge is a _mudblood!_ Come on bitty baby Scwourge. Come pway with the big kids.”

She moved away from the table into an open area and assumed dueling stance with her wand out, pointed at Harry’s chest. “ _CRUCIO!_ ”

Harry lifted his hand, almost lazily, and shielded himself, allowing the spell to hit the shield and fall away. He flipped her the bird and stuck his tongue out. “Gonna need something stronger than that, you insane fuck.” Harry could hear Sirius snort out a laugh while Remus groaned, sounding defeated at the whole situation.

Those sitting at the table, who did not know his fighting style, gawked. Bellatrix pursed her lips in frustration and shot off a litany of spells, trying to shake his calm. “ _CONFRIGO! CRUCIO! REDUCTO!_ ” She moved spastically around the room, attempting to throw him off.

He allowed her to tire herself out, dodging out of the way of her spells while watching behind his shield… flipping his knives in his hands, a picture of calm smugness.

Bellatrix was screaming at this point, while Harry chuckled at her antics. _“STUPIFY!! DEPRIMO!!!”_

Harry watched as the floor near him was blasted open and marble bits went flying through the room. He hopped over the cracks and strengthened his shield. “Well, that’s just bad etiquette. As a guest in Lucy’s home, you shouldn’t put a _giant fuckin’ hole_ in the ground. Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he said while shaking his head and sending a superior smirk her way. “You’re obviously being a bad wittle bitch, Bella. I’ll have to wub your nose in that later.” 

He sent Frank a wink and turned back to pay attention to Bellatrix. Screeching in frustration at the affront, she turned her wand to point it at Frank. She started her spell before Harry could even think of shielding him. “ _AVADA KE…_ ” 

As he heard the spell leave her lips, he shouted out “NOOooo!” 

Harry flung his hand out along with one of his knives. His magic blew her back against the wall with a loud thump, interrupting her cast. The knife connected with her wand wrist, pinning it to the wall with a wet 'schnick' as it pierced through material, flesh and bone. Frank had fluidly drawn his weapons, cocked them, and pointed them at her, but didn't get a shot off before Harry cast his spell. He stood waiting, on high alert, as he watched Harry deal with the situation.

Bellatrix slumped down against the floor, groaning in agony, her arm stuck to the wall. Blood streaked down the wall where her head had made contact. It dripped out of her nose and the side of her mouth. Her wand had fallen to the floor at her side when the knife made contact. Harry stalked over to where she was crumpled over in pain and leaned down to glare into her face. She was barely conscious enough to listen to him, but he was happy she couldn't really speak. He didn't really want to listen to her baby voice anyway. He kicked her wand to the middle of the room and pulled her head back by her hair, trying to decide if he wanted to slit her throat or draw the whole thing out. It would, after all, be kind of nice to make her lose the spiteful tongue that sent the awful spell Frank's way. 

Before he continued their ‘conversation’, and still holding her head back, he took his other knife and stabbed it deeply into her side under her ribs. He avoided hitting anything vital, instead causing extreme pain and not ending it too soon. Finally deciding that he wanted to feel the recoil of a gun as he put her out of his misery, he reached in his thigh holster and drew his Glock 19. He cocked it and shoved the barrel up to her sweaty forehead, pressing hard, causing her head to tip back even more so that her crazed eyes met his deadly green ones. 

“No one,” he growled out menacingly at her, “and I mean, fuckin’ _NO ONE_ , fucks with Frank. Got it?” He looked over at the table and repeated himself. “GOT IT??” 

Frank strolled over to stand formidably next to Harry, giving his silent support while he finished her off. 

Pale, shocked faces around the table nodded in understanding as Harry turned back to Bellabitch. 

“You dumb, stupid bitch. You could have just fought _me_. You _should_ have just fought me. I don’t have any issue takin’ you on. I would have even let you live after you lost. But, when you go and try to fuck with _my dad??_ Well, let’s just say… do you have any last fuckin’ words? I mean, besides ‘Sorry Frank, and sorry Scourge’?” 

Tom cleared his throat at this point, pulling Harry’s attention from the mess of a woman who was shaking at his feet. Harry kept his gun trained on her forehead while Tom soothed him, “Scourge… thank you for your... combat demonstration. If you do not mind leaving one of my best enforcers alive, I would be most appreciative.” 

Harry huffed in frustrated disbelief. “This is your fuckin’ _best?_ They seriously need some trainin’, Tom.” 

Tom sighed and dipped his head in acceptance. “Yes, well, either way, I would appreciate it if you were to not kill her right now. She is needed for our plans. Also, I do believe that we have all learned that you and your father are considered… _off limits_.” He sent a threatening look out at the table, “As I had _previously_ mentioned, Scourge and his father are to be treated with _respect_. They can and _will_ retaliate, as evidenced by our dear Bellatrix here.” 

Looking over at Narcissa, Tom ordered, “Take care of your sister, Lady Malfoy. Get her away from this meeting and heal her. And keep her away from Scourge for a while, at least until all parties have calmed down.” 

The gruff looking man who was standing next to Frank earlier leaned over to Remus and said, “If that’s what your cub is like, I think he’ll fit in _real_ good with the pack.” 

Sirius let out a relieved snort. “Merlin, pup, come sit down. We’ll all leave Frank alone.” The rest of the table gave nods and murmurs of assent. 

Taking a deep breath, Harry nodded once at Frank, holstered his gun and went to sit down. He crossed his arms and glared at the table’s occupants. “ _Don’t_ fuck with Frank,” he grumbled. 

A man seated further down the table, later introduced as Barty Crouch Jr., chuckled and said, “Noted.” 

**\----------**

**\--- Malfoy Manor - ~~Christmas~~ Yule ---**

Christmas wasn’t celebrated in the manor. Apparently, they celebrated Yule at winter solstice, to honor the rebirth of the ‘Great horned hunter god’. (Not Santa. Probably closer to Rudolph, actually.) Remus explained that it was one of the sabbats they followed as wiccan. He described the burning of a Yule log, ‘sacrificing meat’ for a feast and exchanging trinkets with those dear to you.

Harry figured it boiled down to eating and gift giving, just like Christmas, so he was cool with it. But, it was his first Christmas in a long time where Logan and Wade weren’t present, and he felt like he was missing out a little bit.

Pretty boy was back, though, and he brought a friend home with him. If Harry thought that _Draco_ was a pompous, entitled jerk, he had nothing on this Blaise Zabini guy. Harry learned that Blaise was the son of a woman who had been married _seven_ times over. Each husband had _mysteriously_ died, leaving her a distraught (read: _much wealthier_ ) widow. Harry thought that at some point men would catch on and run the fuck away when they saw her comin’. But, Frank always did say that you get hurt when you think with your ‘little head’. 

Apparently, Harry’s status as a ‘mudblood’ was an issue with this Blaise kid, as well. Harry would shrug when the boy said things in passing, thinking that it would offend him. Stupid kid, he didn’t care what people in this world called him. Harry would just roll his eyes at him. Blood was blood. It all flowed out on the floor after someone's neck had been cut, just the same as everyone else, no matter what _‘purity’_ it was.

_“And this is our guest, Henry Castiglione, Heir to the House of Castiglione,” Draco said as he introduced Harry to Blaise. “He is Italian, but he was raised in America. He has just learned of his connection with the House of Potter and his responsibilities here in Britain, so he has come here to learn our ways. Father is aiding the Dark Lord with his education regarding those.”_

_Blaise sniffed in Harry’s direction and looked down his nose at him. “You do not look like Italian nobility,” he scoffed._

_Harry shot him a toothy grin. “And you don’t look like an asshole, but look, here we are!” He looked playfully at Draco, waggled his eyebrows and chuckled. “Congratulations, pretty boy, you’ve found someone with a stick shoved further up his ass than you. Boy, you guys at that school must be some kinda fuckin’ pieces of work. I can’t wait to come hang out with you sheltered fucks.”_

_Blaise bristled and coolly intoned, “I am not sheltered. You should meet my mother. She has not allowed me to be sheltered.”_

_Whistling lowly, Harry snickered and ran his tongue across his top teeth, “Oh yeah, I’ve heard aallll about your mother, sounds like my kinda gal. I bet we’d get along reeeaaalll good.”_

_The sounds of Harry cackling filled the halls as he ran away from a thunderous Blaise, bent on retribution for the slight against his mother. Yep, Harry was going to have so much fun at Hogwarts._

Christmas turned out okay, though. Harry gave small gifts to the five men who were helping him most with his wizarding education. He gave Lucius some old book on the origins of Wizengamot and an ‘I Love Lucy’ pin. The meaning of the pin was lost on him, but Frank and Sirius got it… so… worth it!

He gave Sirius a cache of joke gifts from Spencer Gifts that he had Wade send him. Sirius spent the morning attempting to get Severus to sit on a whoopie cushion. Remus just shook his head fondly and rolled his eyes.

He found some potions stuff for Severus and some books for Remus. For Tom, he got a mug that said ‘World’s Greatest Dictator’ that was immediately filled with tea and used for the Yule breakfast. Harry smirked as Tom drank from it without irony.

He sent Wade and Logan weird candy from the wizarding world so that they could experience what a dirt flavored jellybean tasted like, or a snot one.

And, for Frank, he used his magic to enchant a knife to never need sharpening and always come back to its sheath if the distance between the knife and the sheaf became too great. Frank ruffled his hair and gruffly said thanks.

Harry got some cool shit as well. Tom and Lucius had gotten together and gifted him with something that he had been wanting since he came into this crazy ass world… a leather wizard’s cloak. “It is made of the best Hebridean Black dragon scale armor. It will not only protect you as you go into combat, but it is also considered well within wizarding fashion.” Harry rolled his eyes at the statement regarding fashion, but he felt a small part inside of his chest warm at the gesture. 

Sirius and Remus gifted him with a book, and Severus gave him a small crystal phial. Harry did the polite thing and expressed his gratefulness over the seemingly boring gift, until he read the title: Finding Your Inner Animagi: A Guide for Every Wizard to Discover Their Animagus Form. He looked at them in awe as they smiled knowingly. Sirius sent him a smirk and Remus sent him a small nod. “Holy Shit, guys… this will be _awesome!_ ”

But the very best of all… the most wonderful gift of the day… came from Frank. Harry was presented with a gray metal box with a silver inlay on the top inscribed ‘Scourge’. Opening the latch, he saw the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. There, resting on black velvet, were two Smith & Wesson M&P45s with the name ‘Scourge’ engraved on the barrels. His breath caught in his throat and he stared at the man he called dad.

“Figured it was time for you to get your own signature weapons. Can’t keep goin’ between Glocks, Kimbers, ‘n whatever else I have around. Merry Christmas, kid.”

Harry just _had_ to tackle him with a hug. There just weren’t words to express the awesome that was Frank. Yep, ~~Christmas~~ Yule was awesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warnings:** canon typical spell violence, knife violence, description of bloody scene, threats of murder with firearm
> 
> Movies Referenced/Quoted:  
> 
> 
>   1. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (1994) – Elizabeth played by Helena Bonham Carter
>   2. I Love Lucy (TV: 1951-1957)
> 



	26. On a Year in Training (Part IV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets in touch with his wild side, meets a perverted snake, and visits home-sweet-home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re winding down Harry’s year of training (holy crud, it’s taken a hot minute) and he’s finally finishing up his well-rounded education. Just a little bit to go until he _finally_ gets to start at Hogwarts and begin his revenge… Jeebus, he’s taken his sweet ass time. 
> 
> Y’all bloodthirsty people crack me up with your comments on wanting Bellatrix to die. I appreciate your vicious natures. Enjoy and <3 you for kudos/comments.

_Yep, ~~Christmas~~ Yule was awesome._

**\--- February, 1997 (Sixteen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Malfoy Manor, Potions Lab ---**

Learning to become an animagus was apparently an _ordeal_ (1). Harry couldn’t believe that his biological father and the rest of the Marauders taught themselves without any help except what they read in books! And they had to do it in secret! He didn’t think that he would have even gotten this far if he didn’t have Sirius and Remus helping him along with the transformation.

Severus was staying out of it, often mumbling about dunderheads who got themselves into too much trouble during the school year. He would, however, sometimes delicately push Harry in the right direction when he got stuck on something. He would glance over Harry’s shoulder as he read something and mutter about how interesting the paragraph on page 43 was regarding the discovery of one’s inner animal. Or, he would slide Harry a note at breakfast with a title of a book on the ability to meditate and center oneself, so that one could commune with their wilder side. Yeah, he was staying out of it alright. (And Harry was _very_ happy for his help on the down low. He would never betray Severus’ trust by letting the others know of the stealthy help he was getting.)

The more Harry learned about the three men, the more he realized that even though Severus was dour, grumpy, aloof and potentially the _crabbiest_ person that Harry had ever met… he was also subtly cool in a lot of other ways. After hearing all about his backstory with Harry’s birth mother and his younger years, Harry understood why he acted that way outwardly. He had built walls around himself so that no one could penetrate them and hurt him again. It wasn’t the way that Harry went about things. (He was more of a ‘kill ‘em all and then _no one_ can hurt you’ kind of guy.) But he could see that one might react to the world by sequestering their true self behind impenetrable walls, like Severus had.

But Severus looked out for Harry. Whether as a personal promise made to his birth mom or as a personal vendetta against the man who had caused the death of his best friend, he made it his mission to ensure that Harry had a pristine and well-rounded education for when he entered Hogwarts. He made sure that the potions they made together were perfect, so that when Harry _finally_ did go to school he wouldn’t make a fool of himself. As they worked together, he ensured that Harry knew all the plants used, and the proper way to use a knife. 

_“Really, Sev? I know how to use a knife. You know I know how to use a knife. In fact, if I remember a couple Death Eater meetings ago, I’m pretty sure that you’ve been witness to that,” Harry drawled at him while they were working in the potions lab._

_Severus fixed him with a slow look and droned, “Harry, not a killing knife… a potions knife.”_

_“Ah, yes…” Harry coughed slightly into his hand. “Well, by all means, let’s kill some plants then!”_

_Sighing, Severus handed him the potions knife by the handle and pointed to the Shrivelfig on the board. “Let us begin working on the Shrinking Solution potion. Can you remind me where the Shrivelfig is found and when it is most potent?”_

_Harry took the knife and began his cuts while reciting all he knew about the plant. “The Shrivelfig is a deciduous plant that sheds its leaves in autumn. The purple fluid needed for the potion comes from the inside of the fruit and is best used within one month of picking. However, it can be put under stasis so that the fluid stays potent enough for a decent potion. The fluid is also used in the Elixir to Induce Euphoria.(2)”_

_Severus’ mouth curled into a slight smile. “Yes, very good Harry.”_

**\----------**

**\--- March, 1997 (Sixteen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Malfoy Manor ---**

Harry’s mouth tasted like shit. He had been holding a Mandrake leaf in it for almost the whole month that was required before he could continue on with the change. It was nearing the next full moon, and he was just about over it. _EVERYTHING_ tasted like ass. He just wanted to be able to have a bite of food that didn’t have the aftertaste of rotting foliage. He had his crystal phial from Severus ready to spit the offending leaf into when the time came. And, he had already placed one of his undyed black hairs inside. 

Sirius and Remus made sure to tell him that he should _not_ use one of the silver ones, as they had no idea what could potentially happen with the change. Harry thought it might be cool to make whatever he turned into a silver and black streaked animal, but they were adamant that he should not attempt it. So, he went with the black hair. (Begrudgingly.)

Frank was no help when Harry described the issue of the leaf in his mouth. He would snort and say that Harry was finally getting his vegetable intake. At least he wasn’t being a dick and trying to get Harry to accidentally swallow it. No, that was more of a Wade type of move.

_(Scourge) 11:33_

> going 2 lunch fuk ths leaf 

_(Scourge) 11:34_

> wish i culd spit it out 

_(Dead) 11:36_

> i KNEW u spit n didnt swallw

_(Scourge) 11:37_

> fuk…u… 

_(Dead) 11:38_

> nope i hve stndrds must swallw wit me

_(Scourge) 11:41_

> I h8 u going 2 eat now

_(Dead) 11:44_

> thnk of me fndly 

_(Scourge) 11:45_

> only thnkng of ways 2 kill u 

_(Dead) 11:45_

> *pouts* 

_(Scourge) 11:48_

> ttyl

_(Dead) 11:51_

> eat ur vegetables! 

**\----------**

**\--- April, 1997 (Sixteen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Malfoy Manor Back Property (In a Lightning Storm) ---**

Harry felt the storm brewing. It was slowly approaching the wooded area on the edge of the Malfoy property. He had his wand pointed at his heart, ready to say the words that Sirius and Remus had beat into his brain. His phial of grossness was hidden away where he _‘hadn’t thought of it at all’_ since he added the necessary dew and the the chrysalis of a Death’s-head Hawk Moth. (That was a _bitch_ to get ahold of. Thank fuck that Severus was helping him out with the ingredients he needed to obtain.)

He had been chanting ‘Amato Animo Animato Animagus’ every sunrise and sunset since he had finished filling and hiding the phial, while he waited for an electrical storm to finally come. He wasn’t the most patient of people and waiting for this was killing him.

But he wanted it. And, like Frank always taught him, if he wanted something, he needed to work for it… to go out and get it.

So here he stood, alone at the edge of the woods like an asshole, waiting for lightning to strike so that he could finish with his transformation. Sirius and Remus were waiting for him closer to the manor. They did not want to be close to him during the change, for spell reasons, but they did want to be close enough incase things went tits up.

The lightning finally hit, and Harry’s body went rigid with anticipation for the final actions and spell incantation. He hurried over to where his phial was hidden and grabbed it. Placing his wand tip against his heart he again spoke clearly, “Amato Animo Animato Animagus.” He tipped the phial of blood-red potion back and drank it all in one gulp, shuddering at the horrible taste.

Pain racked through his body and he dropped his wand with the sheer strength of it. A form of an animal started to take shape in his mind. It was fuzzy at first, but the longer he stood there and focused on it… clearing his mind to think on _only_ the shape… it took a clearer and clearer form.

As the animal brought itself to the front of his mind, Harry felt his body transforming… painfully and awkwardly. (Sirius had said that the first time would be a hurt a little - _a little???_ And they had made sure that his clothes were spelled to transfigure with him so that he wasn’t running around stark naked when he transformed back. Look at them, bein’ all smart and plannin’ and shit.)

Once the transformation was done, he was lower to the ground and noticed that he was on three black paws and one streaked with silver. (Yay! That was like some Winter Soldier shit!) He shook his head and body in excitement. It worked! He couldn’t wait to show Sirius and Remus. Inhaling a deep breath, senses heightened with his change, he ran, and ran, and _ran_ , until he reached the entrance to the manor where they waited for him.

Remus and Sirius took one look at his dark wolf form and grinned. Remus reached out tentatively and stroked his hand down Harry’s fur. “Merlin, cub, _you’re beautiful_. Your dad would have been so proud of you. And now you’ll fit in so well with the pack.”

Sirius smirked, “Well, pup, now you _really are_ a Marauder.”

**\----------**

**\--- May, 1997 (Sixteen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Malfoy Manor, Death Eater Inner Circle Meeting ---**

Yet another mind-numbing inner circle meeting was droning on as Harry sat staring off into space. He was planning his next prank on Sirius, ignoring the nervous looks that some of the other Death Eaters were sending his way. Apparently not everyone had forgotten the fact he had bashed Bellatrix’s head against the wall with the wave of his hand and gone on to ‘slightly stab her’. He shrugged internally, it’s not like he was crazy or anything. She got better. In fact, she was currently glaring off and on in his direction. He didn't care, though. She could glare all she wanted. They all could. As long as no one fucked with Frank, he was cool with it. But if they tried anything, well he'd just have to 'slightly stab' someone again.

As Tom continued with his plans and instructions on what would happen in the Ministry that week, Harry felt a tickle at the bottom of his leg. He jerked and glanced around, looking for the perpetrator. Frank was missing from this meeting, having taken a mission with the X-Guys, so it wan't him trying to get Harry's attention. 

Harry shook his leg and glanced down, trying to see what was happening. He was met with the serpentine gaze of Tom’s familiar, Nagini.

_“Go away!” Harry whispered harshly at the snake._

_Tom paused his speech and lifted an inquisitive brow in his direction. Harry sent him a sheepish smile and shrugged, waving at the man that all was well and to continue._

_Nagini kept crawling up his pants leg, trying to wrap around his body. He shoved at her, with no luck. “Fuckin’ get off!” He grunted, attempting to wiggle in his chair and shake her off of his leg._

_“Do you need assistance, Scourge?” Tom asked as he watched Harry wriggling in his chair._

_“Deine perverse Schlange versucht mich zu belästigen._ ”(3) _Harry grumped, trying again to get Nagini to stop her ascent up his body. ( “Your perverted snake is trying to molest me.”)_

_Tom snorted. “Sie liebt dich._ "(3) _( “She loves you.”)_

_Harry gaped at him. “Du sprichst Deutsch?_ "(3) (“You speak German?”) 

_Nodding Tom said, “Ja.” He pointed at the snake, who had wrapped herself around Harry’s midsection at this point. “Pass jetzt auf deine neue Freundin auf._ "(3) _( “Yes.”; “Now pay attention to your new girlfriend.”)_

_Severus looked between the two of them with concern. “Is everything alright, My Lord?”_

_Tom nodded toward him, “Yes, Scourge is just complaining that I am not keeping my snake out of his pants.”_

_Sirius coughed on a snort and Remus turned bright red in embarrassment. Severus’ jaw opened in surprise while Harry (and Nagini) fell off his chair in a fit of giggles._

_Tom’s cheeks started to blush as he rolled his eyes at their antics, “I did not mean it that way… as you well know. Let us maintain some decorum and continue with the meeting.”_

**\----------**

**\--- June, 1997 (Sixteen Years Old) ---**

**\--- ~~Classified~~ Undisclosed Locations ---**

Frank and Harry left the manor when the Hogwarts year ended. He felt like he was ready to attend the school the next year with all of his new education and proper manners befitting an Italian noble. He was ready to start mounting his revenge on Dumbledore and his group of assholes.

But first… he needed a vacation.

Luckily for him, Frank’s idea of a vacation involved terrorist hunts, mob stings, bullets, interrogations and all the fun things that he had been missing while he was sequestered at the manor learning about the wizarding world. Wade would come along for some of their missions, but mostly it was just Frank and Harry… destroying and eradicating the criminal element as they were inclined to do. 

Harry was in _heaven_. His new weapons got a workout and Frank even gifted him with an Armalite AR-50, the new long range sniper rifle that had just come out that year. Frank was the _best_ fuckin’ dad _ever_. 

They spent their free time moving through countries and sampling shitty street food. (Most of it was actually _really_ good, in Harry’s opinion.) Neither of them cared that they lived out of duffle bags and slept on mats in barely secure hide-outs. It was everything Harry loved about life and more. He was almost sad that he had to go back at the end of the summer and start his revenge plot.

_Almost…_

**\----------**

**\--- July 31 st, 1997 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Harry's Birthday Celebration Location ---**

Harry had learned the theory of apparition, but on his seventeenth birthday Tom and Lucius took him to actually get his license. They also had him register his animagus form, just in case he ran into issues later on with someone complaining that he was illegal. Although all of these things were registered under his name Henry Castiglione, they also transferred to Harry Potter due to the fact that according to Gringotts they were one and the same. Harry got his rings for his Lordship and officially took on the mantle as Lord of the House of Potter. However, thanks again to the nifty ‘paperwork shuffle’ of Gringotts, he showed up as Lord of the House of Castiglione instead. (Harry was _pretty sure_ that Ragnok was only helping them this much because of all the shit that the bank had messed up in the beginning. But who was he to complain? It _was_ helpful, and Ragnok was doing them a solid.)

Frank had Logan and Wade come out for Harry’s actual birthday at the manor. It was kind of funny to watch Fenrir and Logan circle each other, that was until Logan produced a beer out of fuckin’ nowhere and offered it to the giant alpha werewolf. After that, they were thick as thieves. 

The evening of his birthday he was given the best present that he could have ever imagined…

_“Hold on, Mr. Scourge, we are going to side-along apparate you, your father, and your guests to your birthday celebration,” Lucius said as he tied a blindfold around his head._

_Harry tensed instinctually as the blindfold was placed, but he knew that Frank had already approved this field trip, and there were more guns/swords/claws on their side than on the wizards’ side anyway. It would be fine._

_Snickering, he turned to where he knew Lucius was standing and drawled, “Well, well, well, Lucy… I had no idea you were into the kinky shit. We could have been having so much fun.”_

_Wade snorted and Frank just grunted out a “Shut up, kid,” and they were on their way._

_They landed on a street, that much he could tell, but it was quiet. He recognized the feel of the place in his bones. He felt an involuntary shiver crawl up his spine as he reached up and pulled off the blindfold, only to be faced with the house of his nightmares… Number 4 Privet Drive._

_“The fuck we doin’ here?” He growled, instantly on edge._

_Frank placed a hand calmingly on his shoulder and Tom said smoothly, “Well, young Scourge, we might have found out that this house is in between tenants right now… and we might have thought you would want some… retribution.”_

_Harry glanced questioningly at Frank who nodded imperceptibly. He looked at the house that he hadn’t been back to since that fateful night in 1987, when Frank saved him from everything, and his mouth formed an evil grin._

_“Stand the fuck back,” he warned lowly._

_He gathered his magic. He felt it swirling around him, drawing it in from the energy in the air. He brought his hands together and felt the fire spark between his palms. Slowly pulling his hands apart and spreading his fingers, he allowed the fireball to grow. He focused all his anger and rage into the flame. He fed it with all his vengeful thoughts and spite toward all that the house represented._

_The others watched in awe as the young wizard harnessed the power of fire and thrust it away from his body in a pillar of flame. The sheer power of the blaze hit Number 4 dead on and immediately set the house alight._

_As the house burned, Harry turned to the men who meant so much to him in his life. “Fuck this place, and happy birthday to me.”_

_Turning to walk away from the blaze, Wade stopped him and took a photo so that he could remember the occasion. “It's like one of those movie moments Baby Scourge. After all, it’s not every day that my Mini Menacing Mercenary gets to burn down the home of his abusers. We need to document this for posterity.” He sniffed and pretended to wipe away a tear from his mask, “I’m so proud.”_

_Frank sighed, “Let’s leave before the fire engines get here.”_

_Harry shot them all a toothy grin._

Best... birthday... _ever!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1. _https://www.wizardingworld.com/features/web-how-do-you-become-animagus_  
>  2. Book of Potions, Zygmunt Budge, _pub. 16 th century_
> 
> Languages Used (Translated with Google Translate):  
> 3. German


	27. Interlude (Part V)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A _short_ look into a year of frustration for our least favorite Headmaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buahahaha, I bet you thought that Harry was starting Hogwarts this chapter. Welp, I’m evil. He’ll get there, no worries. Anyway… enjoy Dumbledore being confused and annoyed. I know _I do_. This one is shorter, but I just wanted to remind everyone how great Dumbledore is. Thanks again for kudos/comments. I _promise_ we’ll see Hogwarts next chapter. (Nope, not crossing my fingers behind my back at all 🤞😉)

**\--- August, 1996 through August, 1997 ---**

Albus P. W. B. Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Order of Merlin (First Class), Grand Sorcerer, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and _NO LONGER_ Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot was _not_ having a good year. He had felt a change coming when he was notified by Gringotts that his accounts were being audited in early August of 1996.

Now, he had not been worried about the audit, of course. He had nothing to hide. He was merely utilizing his resources as he saw fit. And he saw fit to _utilize_ the resources provided by one missing Harry James Potter. The boy’s trust vaults had allowed for him to enjoy a better way of life and provide for those who worked tirelessly for the greater good. He knew he was doing the light’s work. He knew that mother magic would look upon his actions and bless him accordingly.

No, he was not worried at all.

On the other hand, he had to wonder _why_ the audit was being performed when it was. It was only 11 months and 27 days until he was able to completely take over the Potter accounts. He had spent months (read: about 30 minutes panicking about what to do) looking for Harry James Potter. He had tried every (read: not one) avenue in order to find him. He had contacted everyone he knew. (Nope, he mostly sat there eating his lemon drops and waiting patiently while he raked the money in from Harry’s trust vault.) He had _tried_.

What more did the wizarding world and the bank expect him to do? If the boy was not found by his 17th birthday, he would be listed as officially dead and Albus would be able to take over everything legally. (Read: illegally, since he stole the guardianship… but no one need worry their pretty little heads about that.)

He knew the boy had not been found. He _knew_ it. Severus, his most trusted spy, would have let him know immediately if Harry was captured or found by the Voldemort. His boy Severus could always be counted on. He had made sure of that with a little subtle guilt and pressure regarding the loss of his best friend Lily. Although, Albus did not really consider it much of a loss since the fickle woman and her husband were trying to _defect_. Luckily for him, he was able to figure it out and save any potential kerfuffle with the light side by showing them the error of their ways. He was even able to spin little Harry’s story by giving him the smallest little curse scar. 

Yes, that was a stroke of genius. Too bad the boy had to up and disappear and not be raised as the child of prophecy to take on Voldemort in an epic final battle. Albus would just have to make sure that his substitute savior, Neville, was ready. If only Harry had stayed in the wizarding world, Albus sighed to himself, this would all be so much easier.

Well, it was all no matter. The audit came up clean (although troubling) and he remained receiving his stipend from the Potter trust vaults.

**\----------**

Another issue that he _had_ not expected to arise was a distant Potter relative showing their face in Wizengamot. He _couldn’t_ be a legitimate relative. Albus would _know_. He had researched the entire Potter family before he ~~killed~~ discovered them dead. But here this man was, showing up in Wizengamot, claiming the proxy vote for the Potter seats as a relative. When he arrived on scene he looked at Albus like they knew each other. Albus was not one for omens, as he had ignored every one that he came across... poor Grindelwald... but he felt that this man showing up might be a bad omen for what was to come in the wizarding world. It was like he knew _too_ much for having just made his way to Britain. He was able to talk just a little _too_ smoothly for Albus' tastes. If Albus did not watch him closely, he had a feeling that this new man would be the cause of _many_ sleepless nights.

When Albus immediately requested the information regarding his legitimacy from Gringotts, he was presented with signed parchments as proof. 

> __**Sig. Franco T. Castiglione**  
>  **Proxy Vote For:** Henry Julio Castiglione, Heir to the House of Castiglione  
>  **Affiliated Houses:**
> 
>   1. **House of Potter** (16 Votes)
>   2. **House of Castiglione** (1 Cadet Vote)
> 

> 
> _Voting Faction: **Gray/Dark**_

 _Gray or DARK!!!_ In one moment Albus had just lost the majority vote in Wizengamot. This new voter had swung the votes from the light side to the gray/dark side. He just _knew_ that Lucius or Voldemort was behind this! He could tell by the way that Lucius smirked at him when the title of Chief Warlock was taken from him and passed on to the most evil and dark Lord Malfoy. And worst of all, he was a Slytherin! Oh, this would _not_ do.

Sig. Castiglione backed Lucius Malfoy on everything that was brought forward. He helped push through laws that relaxed the restrictions on werewolves and other dark creatures that could endanger their children! Were these wizards not thinking about the children?? Albus was only thinking of those young wizards and witches in his care. He wanted nothing more than to usher the next generation into the light so that they might embrace good and true magic. (Read: He wanted sheep.)

And just who was this Heir who would take on the Lordship. According to Gringotts, this Heir would take on the Lordship to the House of Castiglione _and_ Potter on his 17th birthday. Albus needed to find this child immediately and help nurture him into the right way of life. He needed to see that being associated with gray and dark magic is not for the greater good. 

He needed to find Heir Castiglione… soon. Before he took a deep look into the Potter accounts. (Not that anything illegal or wrong had been done _at all_ regarding those accounts. No, not at all.) He also needed to find out if he was legitimately going to take on the accounts because the trust was going to run out _soon_. And Albus, well he needed that money because he had quite a few people to take care of… for the greater good, of course. 

All this stress was putting a major dent in his lemon drop stores.

**\----------**

Albus was tired of listening to Minerva whine about Harry Potter. He was just over it.

_“Albus, his name is still in the book. I know that he is out there. I know that he is just waiting for us to come and save him from a horrible life outside of the wizarding world. We should have been the ones to guide him. Oh, Albus, I can just feel it. Has Severus been looking?”_

_Albus sighed and looked condescendingly over his half-moon glasses at Minerva, “Minerva. It has been over nine years. We must accept that young master Potter is no longer alive.”_

_Minerva pointed at the book of names and shrilly blustered, “His name is still written in there! It only vanishes upon death! He is alive!”_

_“Calm yourself, Minerva. Have a lemon drop,” Albus soothed in his grandfatherly way as he walked over to the book. He ran his hand down the names and came across ‘Harry James Potter’, still in bold print. He tapped his finger on the name and looked at Minerva, “Yes, I suppose we must admit he is still alive, however we must also assume that wherever he is, he does not want to be here.”_

_As he flipped through the pages of the book, his eyes alighted on a new name… ‘Henry Julio Castiglione’. His heart clenched in excitement… the Heir was coming to Hogwarts! He would be able to mold him into a better, lighter wizard. None of this gray/dark magic anymore. No, he would vet his friends, suggest his house affiliation and even pressure him to befriend the newest savior. Oh, wizarding world, just wait! Albus Dumbledore might have saved the best for the second act._

**\----------**

The anniversary of Harry Potter’s birthday brought about some _very disturbing_ news to Albus Dumbledore. Sitting in his office, minding his own business (read: trying to find more orphans whose money he could steal since he wasn’t going to be able to get into Harry Potter’s vaults after that day), Alastor Moody’s face popped into his floo. The aging auror’s magical eye circled the office before coming to rest on the headmaster.

_“Albus, we’ve got a problem,” he brusquely stated. "Let me through."_

_Albus sighed, he did not need more issues this year. What with losing his place in Wizengamot, the stopping of his (read: Harry Potter’s) trust vault withdrawals, the fact that Harry Potter was still missing and Severus and Minerva still brought it up like it was his fault, Tom going quiet the whole year, Lucius Malfoy's smug face when he took over as Chief Warlock, this new Sig. Castiglione on the scene causing waves, the unknown player being seen around Diagon Alley (that none of his contacts had been able to get any information on), and the new dark/gray Lord that he needed to mold and bring to the light who would be coming to Hogwarts, he did not need more problems._

_He stood back from the floo and allowed Alastor to step through. “What is it my dear man. I assure you, whatever it is, we can work together to fix it. The Order has seen many things over the past two wars, and we are ready to fight any enemy… to take on any dark wizard… to overcome…”_

_“Albus, shut yer yap. This doesn’t have anything to do with that muck. It has to do with Harry Potter,” Alastor interrupted. (A fine speech, too. Albus would have to remind him that a good speech should never be interrupted. Especially not his.)_

_“Ah, yes, my dear fellow. What about Harry Potter?”_

_Alastor shook his head, making his eye move even more crazily around the room. (It kind of looked a bit gross, but Albus conceded that the man was a good auror and decent Order of the Phoenix member, so concessions must be made for his odd behavior/strange looks.)_

_“It’s not about him, necessarily, it’s about the Dursleys. His family.”_

_Albus furrowed his brow in thought. He thought that those muggles had all died back in 1987. He knew he had cancelled their stipend back then. Did some of them escape? Did they take Harry? Oh dear, this was not good._

_Affecting his most grandfatherly air, he looked at Alastor with a concerned twinkle in his eye, pushing forth a subtle ‘trust me’ bit of magic. “What happened, my good man?”_

_Alastor cocked one eyebrow. “That Merlin damned suggestive magic doesn’t work on me, Albus. You know that. Anyways, the aurors were just informed of a massive house fire on the street where Harry Potter grew up. Arabella Figg alerted them that muggle fire workers were there attempting to put out a huge blaze at Number 4 Privet Drive. But, by the time they had gotten there it was to late. The house was merely match sticks holding up caved in sides. The whole thing had burnt to a crisp. The odd thing about it, though, is that nothing else in the surrounding area was burnt. The garden was still pristine. The houses next door were unharmed. It was as if a giant fireball came from the heavens and destroyed only the house. Very strange Albus, very strange indeed.”_

_Albus sat back in his chair behind his desk and popped a lemon drop into his mouth. “Just that house?”_

_Alastor nodded and thumped his cane on the floor. “Seems a bit odd, on the seventeenth birthday of our Savior and all, that his muggle relatives’ house would get destroyed.”_

_Humming in thought, (read: panicking for real) Albus gave a small nod of his head. “This is most disturbing. I can only believe that this is the work of magic of the darkest kind. We must look into this, Alastor. We must find out who did this.”_

_He nodded at Albus and turned to the floo to leave. “We must maintain constant vigilance, Albus. It seems that the world might be changing. I can feel it in my bones.”_

Yes, Albus had had quite enough of this year. He was ready for the school year to begin again. He was ready for the halls to be filled with innocent children that he could shape and guide. (And leech some of their magic from, but no one needed bother themselves with that little nugget of truth.)

He looked down at his bowl of lemon drops as he considered what Alastor had told him. There were just _too many_ strange occurrences surrounding the Potter name this year. He had better keep an eye out as this year progressed, especially with a new Lord taking over the House of Potter.

Yes, he thought as he popped yet another lemon drop into his mouth, he must remain vigilant.


	28. On (Finally) Going to Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry _finally_ starts at Hogwarts, meets a hat(???), and reconnects with an old acquaintance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowie, ladies and germs, we _finally_ make our way to the hallowed halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Misery. (For those who’ve wronged Harry, that is.) This is going to be _so fun!_ Enjoy! 💜 the love/support as always. Thanks guys!

_Best… birthday… ever!_

**\--- August 31 st, 1997 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Malfoy Manor, Harry’s Rooms ---**

“Am I ready for this?” Harry asked Frank as he packed his trunk. 

Holy shit, a duffle bag was just _so_ much easier and more convenient to pack. Usually, he just threw in a change of clothes, some weapons and a toothbrush, if he was feeling sexy. 

But no… now he had: potion ingredients, school clothes, books for classes, his spare guns and knives that he wasn’t carrying on his person, his leather cloak, extra tac pants, his second favorite boots, some MREs (just in case), a new katana from Wade ( _Yay! Love Wade!_ ), some books on dark arts from Tom (for light reading), a few pranks from Sirius (seriously?), and a book on the inner-workings of the new laws coming before Wizengamot from Lucy. (“Just in case you get some time to relax and review them, Mr. Scourge.” Yeah, ok Lucy… like _that’s_ gonna happen.)

At least he could shrink the damn thing down and put it in his pocket. He had been a bit worried about the effects on his weapons, but they seemed just fine when he practiced on a shitty test sidearm earlier.

Frank glanced at him from where he sat, staring into the fire. “I dunno, kid, are you?”

Harry grumbled under his breath, “You’re no help. You’re supposed to help your child. I’m going into this trying to pretend to be some pretty boy pompous ass Lord of some shit… which I’m totally not… no matter what they tried to bang into my head this year. And I’m just wiggin’ out a bit.” He chewed his bottom lip as he double and triple checked his gear.

Standing up from his chair and walking over to where Harry was pouring over his trunk’s contents, Frank grasped his shoulder and turned Harry to face him. “Kid, _you_ wanted this. Remember what I told you in the beginning? Revenge is personal. You’re doing this your way. You can still say ‘fuck it’ and we can do it the old-fashioned 'Punisher' way. But this is the choice _you_ made. I’m just stickin’ by your side, supporting you like a _good dad_ is supposed to. I always say you make your own choices and deal with the consequences. Do I think you’re ready? From what I’ve seen with you learnin’ all this new shit, yeah, I think you’re ready. You’ll go in, pass yourself off as this Lord guy, ruin the shit out of the people who did this to you… then, like when I finally finished with my vendetta, you’ll figure out where you want to go from there.” He ruffled Harry’s hair. (Still streaked, since he would _not_ allow them to change that about him.) “Now, did you pack a lunch and your backpack for tomorrow?” Frank asked him with a shitty grin.

Harry punched him in the side. Which, in turn, caused their conversation to deteriorate into a wrestling match on the ground. (Spoiler alert: Frank won… stupid headlock, stupid ridiculous strength, stupid... _stupid_ noogies.)

Okay, Harry could do this. Hogwarts tomorrow, here he comes.

**\----------**

**\--- September 1 st, 1997 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- London, King’s Cross Station, Platform 9 ¾ ---**

Somehow Harry talked Frank into bringing Wade to King’s Cross Station… Frank must be getting soft on him, or he really thought that Harry needed a crazy pick me up. Either way, Wade was there to lend his support.

Lucius, Narcissa and Draco went through the wall first, saying that they would meet him on the other side.

“I’m good, I’m good… this will be good. First long mission alone… I’ll be fine,” Harry chanted, trying to pump himself up for doing this without the aid of Frank and the rest of his group of supporters.

Leaning into Harry’s view, Frank interrupted his near manic mumbling. “Kid shut up. You _know_ this shit. Go through there ‘n give ‘em hell.”

Wade, who had been checking out the wall by pushing on it and walking around the back, skipped back over to where they stood. “Yep, Baby Scourge, the author told me that you’re gonna do great! Oh, also, she and I had a discussion about putting you in Hufflepuff… just to freak everyone out. I was totally for it. You look _fabulous_ in yellow, just like Wolvie. But then she argued that you would probably kill everyone in that house by the end of the first night. So, yeah, no Hufflepuff. On the bright side! Three other houses to choose from!”

Harry raised one eyebrow at Wade and said dubiously, “Riiiggghht, well, tell her thanks? Anyway, I’ll, uh, miss you guys? I guess? I still have my phone, though. I’ll keep it ‘charged’ (God, he _loved_ magic) and text you updates. Wish me luck.” 

Frank patted him on the head as he turned and walked towards the wall, then Wade slapped his ass. Yep, good luck to him. 

**\----------**

He met up with the Malfoys and stood next to pretty boy. People passing them by sent him skeptical looks, obviously never having seen someone who looked quite as cool as him. Even though he was dressed in the standard black school robe, he still looked a little intimidating with his streaked hair and few visible scars. He bared his teeth at those who stared too long… fuckin' plebs.

Narcissa lifted one elegant brow and murmured, “Mr. Scourge, remember decorum. Act according to your station in public.”

Harry mumbled under his breath, “Act according to my…” before taking a deep breath, squaring his shoulders and looking at pretty boy. “Okay, Draco, introduce me to your cohorts. We must away to yon Hogwarts whilst I endeavor to engage in polite conversation and act accordingly, using all the correct forks.”

Narcissa pursed her lips in agitation while Lucius _actually sighed and rolled his eyes!!_ (Hooollly Shit! Harry had been such a _great_ influence on the Malfoys!) “Please board the train, Mr. Scourge. Enjoy your year. Our Lord will contact you with Wizengamot dates. We will see you at the holidays.” He turned to his son and said, “Enjoy your last year, Draco. Act befitting a Malfoy and make us proud.”

**\----------**

**\--- Hogwarts Express ---**

Harry and Draco sat in a compartment toward the back of the train. Apparently, this was where the ‘cool kids’ sat. (“Slytherins, Harry,” Draco sneered.) They mostly ignored each other until some of Draco’s friends opened the door and joined them. Blaise Zambini, another two boys and a girl greeted Draco, inquiring about his summer holiday. They then turned curious looks on Harry. (Except Blaise, who for some reason was _still_ holding a grudge for that whole mom insult. *Shrug*)

“Drakie-poo,” (Harry choked on a snort… ‘Drakie-poo’???) the girl with a piggish nose whined, “introduce us.”

Draco glanced at Harry and sighed, “Ms. Pansy Parkinson, Heir Theodore Nott, and Heir Gregory Goyle, may I introduce Lord Henry Castiglione, otherwise known as Harry.”

“Ooh, a _Lord_ ,” Pansy said, batting her eyelashes at Harry.

He raised a brow and leaned forward in faux concern. “Do you have something in your eye? Should we find a mirror? Quick, pretty boy… conjure a mirror or something so that this wonderful lady mightst remove the offending speck from her eye.”

Gregory sent Harry a confused look, then looked at Pansy to see if she really had something in her eye. 

Blaise sent him a glare while pretty boy groaned.

Theodore, on the other hand, snorted. He looked Harry up and down and smirked. “So, you’re the new Lord that my father talked about. You and your proxy have been making waves in the Ministry and Wizengamot already. It will be interesting with you coming to Hogwarts this year. I look forward to seeing what changes will come about by your presence here." He focused on Harry's hair for a moment before meeting his eyes again, "You do not… look like I thought you would.”

Harry stretched his arms wide in his seat, “I know! Better, right?” He grinned impishly at Theodore; this kid looked like _he_ , at least, could take a joke. (Looking at _you_ there, Blaise.)

Draco dropped his head in his hand, mumbling his apologies to his friends for their compartment companion. Harry just grinned.

**\----------**

**\--- Sorting Ceremony ---**

This was stupid. First the most uptight Scottish woman dressed in the most cliché witch outfit met him and the ‘first-years’ at the door. He had to ride in a fuckin’ boat to get there! At least there was a squid in the lake. That was pretty cool.

The woman introduced herself as Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts. She brought them into the Great Hall where the start of term feast was being held. As he stood to the side at the back of the line, he fiddled with his wand, wishing he could start sending spells toward the Headmaster.

Harry was less than enthused when he first laid eyes on the Headmaster. His garish colorful robes, long scraggily beard, wannabe Santa cheer… yeah, he hated him on sight. Poor Severus was seated next to him, attempting to avoid eye contact with Harry. He had a feeling if they _did_ make eye contact, one of them would probably end up doing something stupid, like killing the old asshole in the middle of the banquet. 

Shit, he hadn’t even been in the school for ½ an hour and he already was itching for a kill. Calm down, Harry, breathe.

He barely registered when ‘his’ name was called for sorting. He strode to the stool with his shoulders back, not making eye contact with anyone in the hall. The entire place had gone eerily quiet as he sat down. Drawing upon all that Narcissa and Lucius had taught him, he sat there regally as a hat (hat?) was placed on his head. He really needed to discuss with Severus the number of things that were glossed over regarding the sorting ceremony. He _really_ would’ve liked to have been prepared for a potentially _lice-ridden_ piece of ancient fabric being put on his head.

_“You will need to let me into your mind, young man,” the hat spoke to him through his thoughts._

_Harry jerked minutely at the fact that anyone or anything was able to talk to him with his mind shielded. He thought back to the hat, “Why? Just talk to me like this. I don’t let anyone in my head.”_

_“I am not going to spread your secrets, young wizard, I merely need to peek so that I might place you in the best house that will help you as you go through your schooling.”_

_“Huh,” Harry mused, “and it stays between us?”_

_“I am a sentient hat, sworn to magically determine which of the four school Houses each new student belongs most to. I do not share information with anyone, no matter what their station in Hogwarts or the wizarding world.”_

_“Okay, just know that if you do anything I even remotely consider sketchy, I have a fuck ton of knives that I know how to use. They won’t be able to piece together the shreds of your ancient ass if you betray me,” Harry growled in his mind._

_“Goodness, young man! I swear I will not divulge your secrets to anyone!”_

_“Right, okay,” Harry murmured to the hat, dropping his mind shields for the first time in a very long time. He made sure not to make eye contact with anyone as he sat there with the hat on his head._

_“Oh! Oh my! You have had an interesting life, haven’t you, Mr. Potter.”_

_Harry twitched a little at the use of his real name._

_“I can see that you have a real penchant for vindication. And a small tendency to lean toward violence.”_

_Harry snorted at the hat, “ Small??”_

_“Yes, well, I see why you have come here this year. I have to say that I am saddened by the need for you to take action, however I understand. You have been greatly wronged. I am more disappointed at those in the wizarding world who were tasked with your care. Although I cannot help you much, I will give you this advice. You can trust those that you have met before coming to school. They do have your best interests at heart. I remember sorting Tom Riddle and knew then that he would do great things in this world.”_

_“Yeah, Tommy Boy is great,” Harry agreed, looking out at the sea of faces seated at the tables. They had begun to murmur to each other, probably because he was having a full-blown conversation with a damned hat._

_“Well now, young man, where to put you…”_

_“Wade said no Hufflepuff,” Harry interjected quickly._

_“Goodness, no! With the amount of viciousness in your head I wouldn’t put you anywhere near that House.”_

_The hat hummed in thought, “Gryffindor is not the best choice. You may be brave in a fight, however I doubt that you will fit in with their thoughts on selfless courage, chivalry, and determination. And, no, determination to murder people does not count, Mr. Potter. I might consider Ravenclaw, but even though you have a sarcastic wit and an amazing ability to learn and adapt to new things, I feel that you would not fit in with their bookish ways.”_

_Harry sighed, “It’s gonna be those pompous Slytherin asshats, isn’t it?”_

_“Yes, Mr. Potter. Although I take offense at the term ‘asshat’, I do believe that House will be the best fit for your goals. You are cunning, utilize your resourcefulness, tend to take on the position of leadership, and definitely have ambition, even though that ambition is to take out all those who have wronged you. Yes, Mr. Potter, it better be…”_

“SLYTHERIN!!”

Well, shit. An entire year rooming with pretty boy and Blaise. Color him excited, Harry rolled his eyes to himself.

He stood from the chair and handed the hat back to Professor McGonagall. He turned to the head table and narrowed his eyes at the Headmaster. Dipping his head slightly, he smoothly turned and stalked over to the Slytherin table to take his place. Theodore (“Call me Theo.”) graciously moved over so that there was a spot between him and a blond girl. (“May I introduce Daphne Greengrass?”)

Harry sent a wicked grin toward pretty boy and stretched out his hand for a fist bump. He stage whispered, “Slytherin bros for life.”

Pretty boy blushed slightly, averted his eyes, and sighed in frustration.

**\----------**

**\--- Hogwarts Halls, First Night ---**

Harry had settled into his room in the Slytherin dungeons. Thank god he didn’t have to share with Blaise or pretty boy. Not that pretty boy was bad, he was just… ugh, too high maintenance for Harry to deal with. And Blaise, well that boy could _hold a grudge_.

Instead, Harry shared a suite of rooms with Theo. He was actually pretty pumped at that, since Theo seemed to be the most chill of all the Slytherins he had met so far. He was _trying_ to stay in the ‘Italian nobility’ state of mind, but it was hard. He figured it was more important to do that around the adults, anyway. So, around Theo, Draco and the other Slytherins he let his hair down a little. (Figuratively.)

He didn’t want to stay in the rooms that evening, though. He was angry. He was frustrated about being _so close_ to the asshole who caused his abuse. He knew that he had some other players to take out before he got to the end scene, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to strangle the man right then.

So, he escaped. Telling Theo that he needed to speak to Severus, he left the common room and wandered the halls. Pulling out the Marauder’s Map (thank you Sirius and Remus!), he touched his finger to the corner and felt his magic spark as he said, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” The halls of Hogwarts and all of the hiding spots as well as secret passages slowly bled onto the parchment. He looked at the footprints of the Headmaster, up in his office, and other professors in what he assumed was their version of a teacher’s lounge. Severus was in his potion’s lab. (Shocker…)

And up ahead, apparently staring at a wall, were the footprints of Luna Lovegood. Harry made his way to where she stood.

_“Hello Harry,” her dreamy voice reached him before he got to her._

_“Hello Luna. It is Luna, right?” Harry asked as he walked up to her side, turning to face the blank wall with her._

_“Mhmm.”_

_“Ah,” Harry looked around curiously, “what are we looking at?”_

_“Why, the answers, of course. They sing from the walls. Can’t you hear them?”_

_Harry stared at her incredulously for a moment before turning back to look at the walls. “I must not be able to understand them?” He asked tentatively._

_Luna giggled, “Don’t worry Harry, they will talk to you soon. They told me.” She turned to look him in the eye, “I’m happy you are here. You have fewer Nargles. That is good.”_

_She looked over his shoulder and he turned to see if anyone was there, but there was no one. “You know, Harry, we are going to have a lot of fun this year. Magic gifts her favorites with blessings. Yes, I can see that you will be very blessed.”_

_Harry snorted at the dizzying girl, “Luna, you know your name means ‘moon’ in Italian? Luna bella. (1) I think I’ll call you Moonbeam. You act like what I think one would, if they were alive.”_

_Luna’s face brightened and she sent him a brilliant smile. “Oh! But they are alive, Harry! Hm, Moonbeam, yes, I can see us now. Moonbeam and Scourge. You will take them all on and I will light your way.”_

_Harry’s eyes narrowed at the use of the name ‘Scourge’. “Let’s keep that name under our hats, okay Moonbeam?”_

_“Okay, Scourge…” she smiled dreamily. Then she turned and skipped off down the hallway. Harry shook his head at the nutty girl. Insane, but interesting._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Languages translated with Google Translate:  
> 1. Italian - "Pretty Moon"


	29. On Meeting a Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets ~~Fuckledore~~ Dumbledore, some interesting Gryffindors and listens in on a little conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a long chapter, but Dumbledore _is_ a doozy. Hope y'all enjoy. 😁

_Harry shook his head at the nutty girl. Insane, but interesting._

**\--- September 2 nd, 1997 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Headmaster’s Office ---**

It took Dumbledore all of one day to decide that he wanted to pull Harry into his office for a ‘chat’. Harry was ready. He’d trained. He’d planned. He’d _pre-fuckin’-pared_ for this. But above all, he wanted to meet this asshole who had taken so much from him. 

During potions with the Gryffindors, a young third year interrupted Severus and informed him that Harry was needed in the Headmaster’s office. He handed him a small piece of parchment with the words ‘acid pops’ written on it. Severus informed him that was the password to tell the gargoyle who guarded the way up to the office.

Harry made his way down the halls of Hogwarts toward the Headmaster’s office, keeping to the shadows, when he could, and out of sight of those who might be keeping tabs on the new student. He paused when he reached the gargoyle and sneered. Ugh, really? Fuckin’ passwords? Can’t just have a lock or somethin’ like a regular person? No, he has to have people know the secret ‘code’. Like he was a boy scout or some crap in a club and he was hiding out up there… ‘no _evil wizards_ allowed’. _Just breathe, Harry. Center yourself. You’re an Italian Lord (kinda) – from America. You’re an Italian Lord…_

“Acid pops,” he said drolly, while he waited for the entrance to the stairs to open. The gargoyle seemed to inspect him, as if he was not good enough to enter. He leaned forward, spiked his magic and snarled at it. Apparently, he succeeded in scaring the freaky ass thing into opening up, because the stairs immediately appeared. He ascended them to the office.

“Ah, Henry, my dear boy,” ~~Dumblefuck~~ Dumbledore said ‘kindly’, as he peered over his half-moon glasses, eyes twinkling at Harry. His phoenix sat behind him on a perch, eyeing Harry curiously. Dumbledore also took in Harry’s appearance as he sat there, from Harry’s streaked hair and few visible scars, down to his not-necessarily-standard-school-wear boots. (There was only so much he would change about himself, after all.) 

“I wanted to welcome you to Hogwarts. Please, do come in and have a little chat with me.” He pushed a (gross looking) bowl of lemon candy toward Harry. (Seriously, eew, like how long had they been sitting there and _how many people’s hands had touched them???_ ) “Would you like a lemon drop? Most students who come in to visit me enjoy a sweet while we chat.”

_Nope, not creepy at all Mr. Pervy, trying to get children with candy… Was that candy spiked? Harry bet it was spiked with some calming potion or truth potion or some shit. Chester Molester alert! He needed an adult! Where was Wade when he needed him? This guy should not be in charge of children, with his weird magic that gave Harry a slimy feel, and his attempt to push laced sweets. He gave Harry the fuckin’ heeby jeebies, even without the whole ‘I stole all of your money and placed you illegally into an abusive home’ shtick that he had going for him._

Harry looked Dumbledore straight on, dipped his head slightly in a bow, and said respectfully, “Oh no, sir. I do thank you so much for the kind offer, though. I was raised that too many sweets ruin a child’s temperament.”

_Riiigggght... once, when Harry was ten, and Frank and Logan were off shooting and clawing things, Wade was put in charge – bad idea. They spent the entire weekend living on Chunky Monkey, peanut butter cups, popcorn, pizza rolls and Dr. Pepper. Talk about poor life choices and ruining his stomach’s ‘temperament’…_

“Ah, yes my dear child. I do understand that. I have so few bad habits (Really? Really???) that I do not feel guilty at the amount of lemon drops that I sneak here and there,” Dumbledore said with an extra twinkle in his eye. His phoenix squawked, seeming to agree with Harry about the bad habit bit. 

_This man must have to siphon so much magic into that twinkle glamour for it to maintain its stupid level of fuckin’ shininess. No wonder he’s resorted to leaching from others… it’s to maintain the fuckin’ twinkle!_

“Now, the reason, my dear boy, that I have called you into my office, is to ensure that you are being helped as much as you can while you attend Hogwarts. I understand you were put into Slytherin House. How are you liking it there, dear child?”

Meeting Dumbledore’s eyes, Harry felt the small nudge in his forehead, signaling the Headmaster attempt at legilimency. Narrowing his eyes minutely, he reinforced his mind shield before he affected an innocent look. “Oh, it has been just fine sir. Everyone has been _so_ welcoming. (Except Blaise – the jerkwad.) I am also very much enjoying the classes here. It is much better than being schooled in America. I have a feeling that I am going to learn so much.”

The twinkle in Dumbledore’s eyes dimmed a bit when Harry strengthened his shields, but he quickly reassumed his grandfatherly air. Harry could only tell that the man was getting frustrated because Frank had taught him to read body language, and the Headmaster (according to the slight tightening around his eyes) was getting a _wee bit_ frustrated with Harry. (Yay!) “Well, be that as it may, young man, I feel that you would probably feel _much_ better in Gryffindor, with people who you could trust. (Like he was going to trust _anyone_ this asshole suggested.) I am sure that you do not want to stay in the House of Salazar Slytherin, why that is such a dark place for a student who is both new to the school and new to the British wizarding world to be.”

The Headmaster tented his fingers in front of his lips and hummed slightly. “And speaking of being new to the British wizarding world, I have also heard that you will be going to Wizengamot this year to place your vote.” He leaned forward slightly, “And, have I heard correctly that you are taking over the House of Potter votes as well?” 

_Harry knew damn well Dumbledore was aware of that fact. Lucius practically danced into the manor when he was elected Chief Warlock after the number of votes swung their way. _

“You must know, young man, that you have a very important task with your inheritance. The Potters were an amazing _light_ family who did great things for this world. They sacrificed themselves for their son, who in turn became the _savior of our world_ by fighting off the most dangerous of evil wizards. He has also sadly been lost, but we must honor him and the sacrifice of his parents by remaining in the light and shunning all dark magic.”

Harry let his eyes grow big at this… while trying not to reach for the knife in his boot that he kept for ‘social occasions’ such as these.

Dumbledore continued, “I worry that this responsibility will be too much strain for someone so young. I am an old wizard, experienced with these sorts of things, Henry. I know that there will be people who will try to get you to sway your votes to one side. (Um, like you??) I am worried that you, being a young an impressionable seventeen, might be brought over to the darker side. No, my boy, this will not do at all. You must follow what the Potters would have wanted you to do. I was very close to the family.” 

_YOU FUCKIN’ MURDERED THE FAMILY!!! Breathe… wax on, wax off. Breathe, Harry, breathe._

“You must listen to me when I say that you should think long and hard on the right way to vote in Wizengamot. Yes, the light is the way to go, my boy. And I would be most willing to help you in any way regarding what you need to choose. Anytime, my boy. Anytime.” He smiled graciously, and nodded, as he peddled his bullshit.

 _Harry blinked at him in absolute disbelief. Was this the kind of shit that he pulled with everyone? What if he actually was some impressionable kid who didn’t have any clue what to do. No wonder this Dumbleass was able to get so many people on his side. He started to brainwash them young. He couldn’t listen to this crap anymore._

Taking a deep breath, so he didn’t reach across the desk and strangle the old man (yet), he adopted his best ‘Bambi’ eyes and said politely, “Oh, I’m sorry sir. I thought this meeting was about _school_. I had no idea that I needed to have my guardian here to discuss Wizengamot. Are you important in the Wizengamot, sir? I’ve just started learning politics, and I don’t know all the important people yet, you see.” 

_GAAAAaaaaaah! He needed to stab someone soon after having to listen to this shite and pretend to be this innocent and naïve._

Dumbledore’s lips formed a minute frown before smiling genially again. “Well, I wouldn’t say _important_ , young Henry, but I am a wizard that the members of the Wizengamot do look to for advice. But, oh, my ancient mind _is_ getting away from me! Of course, I would never speak of anything other than school with a student. Of course. Now, let us get down to your resort. I believe that it was merely a mistake on the Sorting Hat’s part, and we can fix it in no time.”

He looked over at the Sorting Hat, who was minding its own business sitting on the shelf in the office. “Now, Hat, I am sure that we both agree that young master Henry should get a resort. He obviously does not fit in with the ideals of the Slytherin house.” 

_Uh, what? The man had known him for all of ½ hour at this point, and Harry had barely said ten words. Was this really how he ran the school? The man was obviously not just evil, but seriously senile._

The Hat lifted a cloth ‘brow’ and said, “I don’t make mistakes, Headmaster. I put the boy there. He stays there. There has been no such thing as a resort since I was gifted to this school by the great Godric Gryffindor.”

“Surely you can see…” Dumbledore tried to cajole him.

“No. Final answer. Now let me rest until I am needed next.” The Hat hopped a little, spun around and faced the back of the shelf. Behind Dumbledore, his phoenix tittered out a small laugh at the entire situation.

Breathing out a frustrated sigh, Dumbledore fixed Harry with a dismayed look. “Alas, it is not to be. I know you are disappointed about staying in Slytherin. However, there is a silver lining. I have a feeling that you will enjoy making friends with the students that I am about to introduce you to.” He looked over to the door and called out to whoever was on the other side that they should come in.

Harry turned as three students from Gryffindor entered Dumbledore’s office. One was a girl with bushy, washed out brown hair, slightly too large teeth and a superior air about her. She smiled knowingly at the Headmaster before turning to Harry and affecting her best ‘welcoming’ smile. She missed her mark by a mile.

The second boy to enter was a slightly tubby, seemingly quieter boy. He seemed shy about the fact that he was even in the office, glancing around nervously like he would be put on the spot to answer pop quiz questions right then and there. He didn’t meet Harry’s eyes, instead standing there and looking at his shoes.

Lastly, a tall ginger with a goofy face followed the other two. Harry noticed that his robes were worn thin and a little too short for his tall frame. He loped into the room with a lazy gait and shot the occupants a inane grin. “Hello mate,” he said when he met Harry’s eyes. “Looks like you’re going to be with the good kids now. No worries, we’ll keep you safe from those slimy snakes.” He gave an over exaggerated shudder when he spoke of the Slytherin students.

_Oh, the amount of prejudice in the wizarding world was ridiculous to Harry. He liked where he came from… good or bad… innocent or guilty… alive or dead. You know, normal._

The girl introduced herself as Hermione Granger and began immediately telling him that he would be spending his time after classes with the three of them. They would start a study group in the library. She then handed Harry some parchment that had been marked with timetables, scheduled tutoring sessions and began telling him how much better his education will be now that she had taken charge of it.

_Harry looked at her, dumbfounded. He was trying to maintain ‘decorum’ (thank you, Narcissa), but seriously? Was this really how people went about things in the wizarding world??_

“Uh, Hermione, right? I am probably good at studying by myself. I think that I have a pretty good basis for my education, and some decent study habits. I came into this school with high OWL scores,” he said, as politely as he could. He was not about to let some bossy bitch plan all of his days. He had plans for himself. He needed to find the Weasleys. He needed to get the Order members. He needed to murder a Headmaster. His schedule was full. He was _swamped_.

“We’ll see,” she said with her lofty tone. She gestured to the ginger and said, “This is Ron Weasley. He will be joining us in these sessions, along with Neville Longbottom.” She gestured to the shy boy.

Harry’s stomach clenched involuntarily at the name ‘Weasley’. He sent a slow (hopefully not evil) smile toward the boy and said, “Oh, well then, I suppose it would be good to join you for a few sessions. It _would_ be good to make some new friends. I will have to look at these schedules but let me get back to you.”

Dumbledore’s eyes were twinkling to the point that a disco ball would be put to shame. “Good, good. I can see true friendship forming here. Yes, very good.” His phoenix seemed to arch a feathery brow while screeching incredulously. Harry had a feeling that he and the phoenix were going to get along quite well. 

Dumbledore continued, “Well, young Henry, you are dismissed back to your classes. I am sure that you will think long and hard on what we have discussed here. And I know that you cannot wait until the end of the day to connect with your new friends.” 

_Yeaaaahhh, that’s a hard ‘nope’ from Harry._

**\----------**

**\--- Outside the Headmaster’s Office ---**

He nodded his goodbyes to those in the room and left out the door, making sure that it clicked when it closed so that they would know he was actually gone. He clomped down the stairs loudly, got to the gargoyle (stuck out his tongue) and walked through the doorway. Before it could close, he passed his hand over himself, bringing his magic around to make himself invisible. He slipped back up the stairs and stopped in front of the Headmaster’s door. Pressing his fingers against the door he whispered a subtle listening spell…

_“He doesn’t seem too impressive, Headmaster,” the bossy girl spoke._

_“Merlin, did you see his hair? He looks like a freak! And the scars? He looks proper scary is what he looks like,” Weasley criticized. “Dunno why you want us to be friends with a slimy snake anyway, sir.”_

_“Ron! I can’t believe you. The Headmaster has tasked us with the very important job of bringing a lost and potential dark wizard to the light. Think of how much the boy would bring to the Order. He’s already a Lord, Ron. He has votes in Wizengamot. He has money,” Hermione nagged._

_Harry heard Ron huff in disgust. “We do need money, alright. Merlin, what with the ‘lost savior’s’ trust not giving our share every month anymore, Mum and Dad barely give me anything. Ginny was going to use her share as a dowry. Because we got cut off, they’ve not even been able to replace my robes this year.” Harry heard him grumble lowly, “Stupid missing savior.”_

_He heard the Headmaster hum and then say, “Yes, well we need a different tactic regarding the Potter fortune and legacy. This young Castiglione is directly in charge of that house now. We might want to have your sister consider working toward aligning herself with the young Lord. She could be his wife, and then, if something were to happen to him at a later date… well it would benefit us all, wouldn’t it, my dear children?”_

_“He seemed okay to me,” a quiet voice interjected._

_“Shut up, Neville. Merlin. You’re always trying to get your own way and push your opinions on others. Always have to be the center of attention, you do,” Ron grumbled._

_Hermione agreed, “Yes Neville, you obviously don’t know what you’re talking about.”_

_“Yes, dear boy,” the Headmaster concurred, “you best just listen as we discuss matters here. This young unknown wizard might bring about an issue with your ability to fight in this war. We need to ensure that he is where we need him, not making his own decisions. We will need to guide him. You three will need to keep strong watch and continue to report to me.”_

_Harry’s eyebrows shot up to his forehead. This quiet guy Neville was always trying to be the center of attention?? He was the one who they had replaced ‘Harry Potter’ with as the ‘savior’?? Poor bastard. He only said five words in the entire conversation. Wow… they really treated this kid like shit. If he were in that kid’s shoes, he would just up and leave. Let them fight their own damn war._

_“Well, my bright Gryffindors, I must urge you to befriend this young Henry. Show him the true path. Make sure that he interacts with your sister, Mr. Weasley, as I am sure that they would be a wonderful match… until he is no longer with us. And Mr. Longbottom?” The Headmaster paused._

_“Yes, sir?” Neville quietly asked._

_“You must continue your training. I believe that Mr. Moody will be able to spend some time with you tonight. He will be working on your ability to endure some of the darker spells. I believe he was going to focus on the cruciatus this evening. It is, after all, one of Voldemort’s favorite spells. We would not want you to go up against him without being able to withstand its horrible effects. In fact, Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger should practice their spells as well, just to help out, of course.”_

Harry had heard enough. He loved a good torture session as well as the next guy, but this was insane! Harry didn’t believe in torturing people for no fuckin’ reason! This asshole of a _mentor and guardian_ was torturing some poor kid just to ‘prepare’ him for a fight that probably would _never_ happen! Tom didn’t want to fight a _war_! Sure, he wanted a few key players… permanently disposed of, but a war was completely counterproductive to all that they had been discussing over the past year. He had no desire to spill magical blood. He wanted to _unite_ the magical world and prove that _all_ magic should be accepted. He wanted to take over the political way, the smooth ‘Tom-esque’ way. Not the fuckin’ torturing some shy-ass kid kind of way. Fuck.

The doors to the Headmaster’s office opened and the three Gryffindors emerged. Ron and Hermione looked smug and were discussing how much enjoyment they would get from practicing their spells that evening. While Neville, that poor bastard, slunk behind them, defeated at the prospect of potentially enduring hours of torture under the wands of his ‘friends’ and ‘instructor’. Jesus Christ.

Harry let them pass and then followed them out into the halls. He found a small alcove and released his invisibility. He needed to talk to Frank…

**\----------**

_(Scourge) 11:12_

> tlked to dumfuk n met a wesly 

_(Scourge) 11:12_

> n 2 othr asshls

_(Miyagi) 11:14_

> how did it go? 

_(Scourge) 11:14_

> i h8 them all

_(Scourge) 11:15_

> dumfuk makes my skn crwl 

_(Scourge) 11:16_

> he tried 2 get in2 my head

_(Miyagi) 11:17_

> what did you do? 

_(Scourge) 11:19_

> styd clm n smiled n gve my best bambi O.O

_(Miyagi) 11:21_

> proud of you kid 

_(Scourge) 11:22_

> ths shit is hrdr thn i thot 

_(Miyagi) 11:23_

> let me know if you need me 

_(Scourge) 11:23_

> yep bak 2 tryng not 2 kll ppl

_(Miyagi) 11:24_

> fatality

_(Scourge) 11:25_

> holy mortal kmbat batmn!

_(Miyagi) 11:26_

> im rad

_(Scourge) 11:28_

> wurd 

_(Miyagi) 11:30_

> stay safe kid 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Movies Quoted/Referenced:  
> 
> 
>   1. The Karate Kid (1984)
>   2. The Princess Bride (1987) - Seriously, the _best_ movie ever made! If you've never seen it... stop reading and go do that now. (But come back and finish reading after 😂)
>   3. Mortal Kombat (1995)
>   4. Batman (TV: 1966-1968)
> 



	30. On a Prediction of Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry starts on his list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's pretty damn tired of no action... and so am I. 😜🔪🐺☠️ Hope this soothes y’all’s bloodthirsty, vicious ‘n vindictive souls. 💜 the comments/love as always.
> 
> **Trigger Warnings** at end of chapter.

_stay safe kid_

**\--- September 30 th, 1997 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Hogwarts ---**

Harry had been in Hogwarts long enough that he had made a decent name for himself with the staff. They considered him _very_ polite and a smart student. (HA! Thank you tutoring for the past year… all that bullshit was worth it.) The Slytherins kept out of his way after he got a little too ‘feisty’ during an altercation with another seventh year in the common room. 

_No, no one died, Frank. And there was only a little blood. Besides… what happens in Slytherin stays in Slytherin. _

Needless to say, none of his House believe him to be an introverted, mousy kid. (Because, spoiler alert: _he wasn’t_ ).

Only Moonbeam (who was just crazy enough to want to help him), Theo and pretty boy really had anything to do with him anymore. Well, and Severus, but he didn’t really count because he was a teacher, and they weren’t supposed to seem close. Not that it mattered much what other people thought. He did think it funny that the other students, however, believed he was a quiet kid, albeit a little strange looking, and left him pretty much to himself. Which was what he wanted.

Tom and he had been communicating via owl. (Lame ass couldn’t bring himself to even _try_ the cellphone that Harry had fixed up to work with his magic. Ugh, technophobe.) They were working out the necessary plans regarding the upcoming Wizengamot session in October. Harry was ready to go in and see what the whole thing was about, and Tom had his list of ‘to-do’s that he wanted to achieve during the session. With Harry’s votes, they would be able to bring forward some new laws on discrimination based on supposed magical affiliation.

Using his pull with Rita Skeeter, Tom had started to push out slightly critical articles in the Prophet, questioning the validity of having Dumbledore even attend Wizengamot. He had her point out that he no longer had any legal votes to cast, nor was he Chief Warlock. He was merely hanging on by his reputation within the light. 

Although they all knew that the articles would not change anything regarding his actual attendance to the session, it did allow for a small amount of doubt to be cast throughout the wizarding community. 

Along with the Prophet, the Quibbler (bless Moonbeam and her father) also ran articles. Each one had a different catchy title proclaiming the Headmaster’s actions, with unique subliminal editing:

**Shocking Turn of Events: Albus Dumbledore Told by Wizarding World to Leave Wizengamot!!**  
_(due to session break until October)_

**Headmaster Brought into Ministry for Questioning!**  
_(regarding fundraising at Hogwarts)_

And Harry’s personal favorite (probably because he caused the prank):

**Hogwarts Headmaster Caught Red-Handed!!!**  
_(after paint prank goes wrong)_

He did have to endure the heinous study groups with the Gryffindor shitheads, but it was a small price to pay to get more information on how to take his revenge on his list of fuckers. He figured he would start at the bottom and work his way to the top, saving the _best_ for last.

And boy was he ready to take some revenge. It had been too long of him just waiting there, biding his time, smiling like an asshole and politely acting like something he wasn’t. 

He sent out a quick owl to Tom to let him know that his plan was going to be put into action later that night, and assumed that he would get the information to the necessary parties. 

Time for a little _fun_.

**\----------**

**\--- Forbidden Forest (Or Dealing with Trelawney the Wild Way) ---**

Harry hated divination. He hated the woman who taught it. He thought the whole thing was a crock of shit. The only people who had ever said anything even remotely true about the future were Luna-beam, Wade (but that fucker was cray-cray), and Christopher Walken in the Dead Zone. And Trelawney had _nothin’_ on those three. Besides the fact that she constantly saw death and destruction for all the students in her class… she took _fuckin’ bribes_ for fake prophecies! What a piece of trash!

So, Harry hated divination.

He also _hated_ Trelawney, but he had good reason to. After all, she was on his _list_. And even though she was at the bottom, she had drawn lucky number 1 in helping him start his ‘Vendetta Against Assholes Who Fucked Harry Over’. Catchy name. Known to those closest to him as the VAAWFHO ( _/vô’,fər/_ ). Not really, but it was kind of a cool to think that he might be important enough to have some sort of acronym named after him and his plight. Besides, it wasn’t like Harry was so stupid that he actually wrote all his lists and shit down. (“Never leave a paper trail, kid. It’ll get ya every time.”)

The time to start his revenge was now, however. He and Severus concocted a plan that he would be seen in Severus’ classroom after dinner on the night of the full moon, studying until curfew. ("Use your contacts, kid. Have people help you when they can, but make damn sure you trust 'em completely, first.”) Although he _would_ be seen there, it would not be him. Instead, a wonderful Barty Crouch Jr. had kindly volunteered to take some Polyjuice potion and act as Harry. He also offered to do Harry’s potions essay, but Severus suggested against it, citing Barty’s atrocious handwriting. Harry just snorted at the two.

With ‘himself’ in Severus’ classroom, this left Harry the opportunity to actually go and get Shitbull Trelawney. He made himself invisible as he left Severus’ classroom and headed for her rooms. He checked for any wards that might alarm her to his presence, but she must have been relying on her powers of divination to keep her safe because no wards were present. (Shitty idea for a woman who couldn't divine her way out of a fuckin' paper bag.) The door, however, was locked. Pulling his wand (‘cus, even though his magic was pretty strong in a fight, it didn’t do _everything_ he wanted without a wand), he quietly whispered _alohomora_ and heard the click of her door unlocking.

Pressing the door open, he squeezed through the smallest crack he could. He found Trelawney on her couch, enjoying her evening tea and a book. (It was probably the ‘Divination for Dummies’ guide, but he didn’t even care to look.) He stood in front of her and allowed his invisibility to shimmer so that she could tell someone was there, but not necessarily who.

“Who’s there?” She asked suspiciously, setting down her tea and peering out into the room through her giant bug glasses.

“You should never say ‘who’s there?’... don’t you watch scary movies?” Harry replied softly, eerily disguising his voice.

“What are you talking about? Who are you? _Where_ are you?” She asked hysterically, standing up and inching toward the end of the couch (as if she could hide behind it or something) and waving her wand frantically at the middle of the room. (Nowhere near where Harry was standing, idiot.)

He walked up close to her side, leaned in and yelled “Boo!”

She screamed and spun to look at him as he let his invisibility fall away. “Mr. Castiglione??? What do _you_ want? How did you even get in here? I locked my door!!”

Harry chuckled and shook his head. “You learn _alohomora_ in year one, bitch. And you learn _imperio_ in fourth year. Guess which spell I’m gonna fuckin' use next.”

Staring at him in terror, she stuttered, “B... but why?”

“We’ll discuss semantics later… _imperio_. You want to take a walk into the Forbidden Forest right now to communicate with the centaurs regarding some new predictions you have seen. If anyone stops you on the way out, you will tell them it is of the utmost importance that you do this alone to find the answers you are looking for. You will head into the clearing after the first grove of trees, where you will stand and wait for further instruction. Do you understand?” He said emotionlessly.

With glazed eyes (difficult to see through the glasses, but _definitely_ glazed over), Trelawney spoke tonelessly, “I understand. I need to walk into the Forbidden Forest now.”

Harry reapplied his invisibility and instructed her to start walking. He followed her through the halls, out the doors of Hogwarts and past Hagrid’s hut. The only person they came into contact with was Hagrid, who was out walking Fang. He was a little sad that she did not want company, and Fang was a little _too_ interested in sniffing around Harry’s boots, but they finished their conversation and continued into the woods.

She stopped, just like she was instructed to do, in the middle of the clearing. Harry walked up to her and dragged her bodily over to a tree, where he proceeded to bind her hands behind her back and around the tree. As she stood there, vacant expression on her face, he smirked. It was no fun to do this if she didn’t know what was happening. And he figured she deserved to enjoy _all the fun_ he was going to have. 

He raised a silencing spell around the clearing and released the _imperio_. She immediately started screaming for help. He watched her for a few minutes, dispassionately, allowing her to yell herself hoarse. Eventually, the screams turned to sobs as she kept asking him why. Why he was doing this. Why her. What did she ever do to him. Why.

“You are the almighty divination professor. You should _know_ why you are here… shouldn’t you? I mean, unless you’re a _fraud_. Unless, oh, I don’t know, you were given a fuckin’ bribe to make a fake prophecy about eighteen years ago, and then given this job as payment. Huh, maybe that’s it.” Harry said as he twirled his knife lazily in one hand, flicking the blade open and closed. 

“Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you fucked over a whole family. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you helped _kill_ that family with your words. And fuckin’ _MAYBE_ it has somethin’ to do with the fact that by saying that fake ass prophecy, you _RUINED_ a little boy’s life!!!” Harry yelled at her. He looked at her, tears and snot running down her face, arms straining in an attempt to break through her magical bonds. (As well as physical – “Never leave home without zip ties, kid.”) He thought that she was one of the worst of all of them. Without her, he would have been raised by his biological mother and father. He would have never had to experience the cupboard. He wouldn’t be covered in scars from Vernon and Petunia and Dudley. He would have _known_ magic from the start. 

But… he wouldn’t know Frank. Tossing his knife in the air, he weighed that fact in his head. He _may_ have the best dad now, but he sure as hell would have liked to know the others, at least. So he still came up with the fact that she was fucked. Totally and irrevocably fucked. He caught his knife and threw it toward her, drilling it into her shoulder. She screamed out in pain as it sank in.

Twitching his fingers he willed the knife back to him. It squelched out of her shoulder and sailed back to his waiting hand. He glanced down at the blood on the blade and back at her. “Bummer, I bet that hurt. You know what else hurts? Getting whipped by a belt… almost every day.”

He grabbed another knife in his other hand and walked toward her. She tried to turn away from him, but he raised the bloody knife and slashed down her cheeks while stabbing her in the side with the other. She keened in pain and bent forward, trying to escape any more wounds. He removed the knife from her side and stabbed again, just to make himself feel a little better. 

Harry stood back and surveyed his work. Blood was dripping down her cheeks and she was favoring the side where he had just stabbed her. She was no longer fighting the binds due to the pain in her injured shoulder. 

“I don’t know what you are talking about. I have never seen you before you came to this school. I would _never_ do what you are saying I did. But I _have_ seen the future, and you will not get away with this,” she whispered hoarsely.

Harry arched a skeptical brow, “Huh, _I’ve_ fuckin’ seen the future and guess what! You’re not _in it_!” 

Raising his wand, he intoned _crucio_ , watching as she bowed off the tree in pain while her mouth hung open in a silent scream. (Too bad she had already screamed her throat raw.) He held the spell for a little over thirty seconds, then let it go.

“Why…” She gasped, “why are you _doing this???_ ” Harry blinked at her incredulously as she continued. “Even if that did happen, and I am not saying it did, you’re from America. You have nothing to do with it!” She stopped and dropped her head, shoulders heaving with sobs.

“Eh, not really from America, actually. From here, as it turns out. Castiglione isn’t even my fuckin’ name,” Harry sneered at her, sending another short _crucio_ her way. “Bet you can’t _divine_ my real one. Go on… I’ll even give ya somethin’ nice if you can guess…” Harry mocked.

She peered at him dimly through her thick glasses, tears streaking down her cheeks mingling with the blood. “You aren’t American? You’re from here? Oh… oh my. _Who are you?_ ”

Harry stood straight and sketched a slight bow, “Potter… Harry Potter, at your service. Fucked over from birth. Scourge is my name and killin’s my game. Welcome to the jungle, bitch. You’re about to pay for _your_ sins.” Harry snorted at the sheer amount of cliches that he was able to get into one tiny villain speech. Wade would be _so_ proud. Frank, on the other hand, would just tell him to shut up and get back to work.

Trelawney gasped in shock, “But you’re dead! You’ve been gone for a decade! No one thought you were still alive.”

“That’s an odd thing for a _fuckin’ divination professor_ to say," Harry said, glancing shrewdly at her. "Either way, I’m here. I'm alive. You, not so much after tonight. It's all good, though. And… I’ve even invited some friends to help out! They _so_ wanted to meet you after we finished our little _talk_. Don’t you worry your little head, though, I’m a forgiving soul. I forgive you completely for everything you’ve done to me. The money you stole, the job you took in exchange for mine and my parents’ lives, the way you helped fool an entire world with a fake prophecy… you know, the small things are easy to forgive.” He rolled his eyes and glanced at a fake camera a la Wade, shaking his head slowly. "But he was lying, folks. He didn't forgive her. He didn't forgive her _at all_."

Trelawney had dissolved into heaving sobs while listening to his speech. She kept muttering about how sorry she was, how much he must hate her, and to please let her go because she would never do anything bad again. She would run away. He would never have to see her again. “You do not have to do this Harry. If you let me live, I will never tell a soul,” she begged.

Sigh, he hated the begging part. People were so whiney when they were getting tortured. “Shut up, bitch,” he growled as he threw another knife in the other shoulder to make it an even pair of stab wounds. He heard it connect with a squinch. Trying to cause as much pain as he could, he _yanked_ it back with his magic.

He tilted his head to the side, casting a _silencio_ on Trelawney so that he could listen better. In the distance he could hear them coming. His pack… 

Trelawney lifted her head as she heard the wolves bay into the night. Her face paled under the streaks of blood and tears. Harry turned to her and whispered, “In the jungle you must wait...until the wolves come, six or eight.”

Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth again in a silent scream. 

Harry snickered, “It's scary when you have no idea what's gonna happen. Isn't it?" He turned and watched as the werewolf forms of Fenrir and Remus entered into the clearing, followed by four other wolves. He turned back to Trelawney and bared his teeth. “Here's a hint... you're gonna die screamin’, bitch. And I’m gonna watch.” He released the _silencio_ so that he could hear her suffering. That was the best part of vengeance, after all.

Her head thrashed side to side as she attempted to struggle against her bonds again, but it was no use. With her energy depleted from all the knife and spell torture, she sagged in defeat. 

Harry saluted Fenrir jauntily as he approached, and nodded at Remus and the others. He was about to turn and say something else to Trelawney, but a stocky man bringing up the back of the pack caught his eye.

“Logan!!! What _the fuck_ are you doing here??” He cried out happily, rushing over to meet the man as the wolves began to circle the sobbing professor.

“Hey bub. Was visitin’ the wolf there, havin’ a couple cold ones, when your weird owl letter shit came for him. Decided to tag along and watch the show,” he drawled, while chomping on his unlit cigar. “You need anything from me? I’ll loan ya my claws.”

Harry grinned, “Nah, it’s all good. She’s bloody enough to make them happy, and I think that the wolves are gonna get a decent piece of her. I’m just gonna hang back and watch. It’s good to see you though. I've missed you 'n Wade 'n Frank.”

Logan patted him on the shoulder and nodded. "Us too, bub."

Harry turned back to where the woman was still tied to the tree and whistled shrilly. “Hey Fenrir, thanks for the help. I got my fun in, so go ahead and have yours.”

He smirked as he watched the wolf bare his giant fangs at the professor before diving toward her knee. His massive jaw clamped around it and pulled. Remus dove for her other leg, biting through to her thigh and ripping out a large chunk of flesh. As soon as their alpha had given the go ahead, the other four wolves dove in to get a piece of the action. The sounds of flesh ripping and tearing, and bones crunching filled the clearing, intermingling with the screams of the divination professor.

Harry and Logan just watched, content with the outcome. At some point during the bloody massacre, Logan lit his cigar and moved to lean against the trunk of a tree next to where Harry stood. Harry grinned vindictively. He snapped a quick picture for Wade on his phone. Wade would appreciate the gesture. He always did enjoy a decent bloody murder.

Snickering to himself, Harry came to the realization that maybe divination _was_ real. Here he was, watching as Trelawney died screaming. _Huh_.

When all that was left were scattered limbs, entrails and a massive amount of blood on the ground, the wolves stopped and howled at the moon. Harry felt overcome by the sheer joy of one person on his list being taken care of. He grinned at Logan and gave a small wave goodbye before transforming into his wolf form to join in the cries.

Fenrir bared bloody teeth at him while Remus came over and chewed on his scruff in a wolf ‘hug’. It got blood all over his black fur, but that was okay. It _was_ a celebration, after all. Fenrir howled long and loud at the moon and took off in a hard run toward the edge of the forest where they came from earlier. Harry ran with them for a while, enjoying the freedom. Enjoying his victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warnings:** graphic depiction of torture, knife violence, canon typical spell violence, blood, gore, description of animal violence. (Toward a human _not_ toward an animal - ASPCA for life! Thank you, Sarah McLachlan. Lol, bet you're singin' 'In the Arms of an Angel' in your head now.)
> 
> Movies/Television Referenced/Quoted:  
> 
> 
>   1. Fight Club (1999) - Released two years later than where we are in time in the story, but worth it for the quote.
>   2. The Karate Kid (1984)
>   3. The Dead Zone (1983)
>   4. Scream (1996)
>   5. Jumanji (1995)
>   6. The Long Kiss Goodnight (1996) - if you haven't seen it... you must stream it now! Best Christmas movie ever! (Well, neck 'n neck with Die Hard)
> 

> 
> \- For those who wanted Harry to have more of an “involved” part in the actual wolf violence, remember he’s an animagus and not _really_ a wolf. Therefore, he probably wouldn’t want to eat/potentially consume human flesh... unlike the rest of the pack. Even _Wade_ said he wasn’t into cannibalism. -


	31. On Interludes and Nargles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus has a small meltdown, and Harry meets Luna’s Nargles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love how protective Harry is of those he considers family/friends. Enjoy the little vicious streak of our anti-hero and of course some ridiculous Dumbledore. 💜 I did have dreams of grandeur of including a Wizengamot session in this chapter... but torture often runs away with me. *shrug* I guess we’ll see Wizengamot next chapter.
> 
> **Trigger Warnings** at end of chapter.

**\--- Interlude (Part VI) – Headmaster’s Office ---**

Albus Dumbledore was very much not okay. The aurors had just left after informing him that the body Hagrid had found during his walk through the Forbidden Forest with Fang _was_ that of his missing divination professor. He popped a lemon drop into his mouth as he considered his next actions.

On one hand, he no longer had to worry about the fact that the prophecy was false getting out as public knowledge. On the other hand, this was _obviously_ not just a random attack. Hagrid had said that she was going out there to discuss a new prediction. What could that prediction possibly have been? It wasn’t like the woman could actually predict anything legitimate. The original _true_ prophecy was found in the middle of an obscure verse in Tycho Dodonus’ book(1) back when he was merely a professor at Hogwarts.

He didn’t need this stress in his life. He was an aged wizard who was merely doing his best to get along in life and make the wizarding world a better place. Couldn’t others see that? Now, he had to work on finding a new divination professor while wondering _why_ she had been mauled to death. And _why_ she had even been out there in the first place.

The centaurs were no help. They merely looked at him and said that he would bring about the future he had written for himself, and the motions of the celestial bodies had already foreseen what would come about. After that obtuse ‘prediction’, Firenze did agree to become an interim professor of divination, however. So, not a total loss. Just a total wash on any actual help for him personally.

Albus groaned. Why was everyone against him all of the sudden. Severus sneered when he was told about the death, saying that Professor Trelawney might have been a fraud, but Albus should have protected her better. Like it was _his_ fault she traipsed off to get herself killed. Minerva, Pomona and Poppy all were devastated at the loss of their colleague. (Even though they were often inclined to speak ill of her behind her back.) They could not believe that even the dizzying divination professor would be so dumb as to walk through the forest alone. 

‘There needed to be better security, Albus’ they kept whining. ‘She must have been coerced’ they pointed out. ‘There wasn’t even a pack of wolves on this side of Scotland. Where did they even come from? There must be a sinister reason that they came here’ they bemoaned. 

No, _there needed to be smarter professors_ , Albus thought to himself while exhaling an annoyed sigh.

He stared off into the fireplace as he contemplated the loss of Trelawney. Fawkes chirped in sadness at the loss of one of their own. (At least Albus assumed it was sadness.) The Hat glowered in his direction, as if it was _his_ fault that she was dead. Stupid antiquated piece of dusty cloth.

But, there was that niggling thought in the back of his head. What if someone knew? What if someone had found out? What if this _was_ some orchestrated plot to get back at her for the fake prophecy? Did they know about _him_? Would they be coming for _him_ next??

No, that was inconceivable. That couldn’t be it. That couldn’t be it at all. It was merely a fluke where his professor decided to take a late-night stroll in wolf infested woods. Yes, that must be it. That was the story he was sticking with, if anyone else should ask. It was merely a devastating and upsetting accident.

**\----------**

_Enjoying his victory._

**\--- October, 1997 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Hogwarts Hallways, Late Night ---**

Harry was walking through the halls after dinner late one night in October, running his fingers down the bricks as he attempted to ‘listen’ to them. Luna had mentioned over and over about how the school could talk, how he just needed to open his mind to hear what she had to say. 

He wanted to find the way that Dumbledore was leaching the magic from the students he was teaching, and from some of the professors. Severus did not know how he was actually doing it, but he had an idea there might be a rune stone or perhaps a warding stone hidden somewhere on the school grounds. If he was able to find it and cut off the asshole’s extra magic supply, maybe the old man would start to wither away and get rid of that fuckin’ ridiculous twinkle in his eye. 

So far, however, he hadn’t been able to hear a thing except a little extra humming of his magic. Maybe he was doing this whole thing wrong. Maybe he needed Luna… she was, after all, his resident expert on all things bizarre in the magical world.

As if he had wished her into existence, she appeared at the end of the hallway, skipping toward him… in bare feet? She came up to stand next to him and tipped her head up in a smile. Reaching out her hand, she grabbed his and held on. He tried to pull back, but she gripped it harder and hummed.

“You should let people show they care, Scourge. It’s okay to hold the hand of a friend,” she said as she swung their hands slowly back and forth.

“Um, okay, sure,” Harry replied, still trying to subtly gain control of his hand back from the petite girl. He looked down at her wriggling toes and asked affectionately, “Moonbeam, silly girl, where are your shoes?”

“Hmm? Oh, the Nargles were exceptionally nasty today. They’re usually not very nice, and I think they’ve hidden them from me, along with my stripey socks. They took my beetle wing earrings and purple quill too.(2) I know that I’ll be able to find my things, though. I just have to have faith in Blibbering Humdingers. They will help me.” She squeezed his hand and let it go. Spreading her arms wide, she spun in a little circle on tiptoe so that her robe twirled around her. Sending a dreamy smile Harry’s way, she continued, “We just have to listen for them to lead the way.”

“Ah huh,” Harry said while lifting a brow and hiding a grin. “Well, do you happen to know what these ‘Nargles’ look like? I could help too. Sometimes even Blibbering Humdingers are too busy to get everything done.”

Luna shone with happiness at the offer. “Oh, that would be wonderful! Well, they usually take the form of the ravens I room with… and sometimes the little girl weasel.”

Growling low in his throat and scowling, Harry asked, “Who?”

“Oh, they like to name themselves. Silly things, like Cho or Padma. One calls herself Morag… can you believe it? What a silly creature. The Moon Frogs would never accept a name like that. Your enemy’s sister, the Ginevra weasel sometimes shows up, circling around as well. The Nargles are rarely nice, Scourge. They’re rarely kind. Often, we must just ignore them, but sometimes they do make it hard to do so,” she said sadly as she looked down at her toes. She wriggled them as she stood there, then turned to face him again. “I just wish I could keep my treasures safe so they could not get to them. If you _do_ find my Nargles… what will you do?”

Harry hummed in thought. He hated bullies. He really, _really_ fuckin’ hated bullies. They always reminded him of Dudley and his cronies back when he was little, how he always had to hide away so that they couldn’t catch him.

“Well, my little Luna Bella, first we will have a small discussion, of course, about where your precious treasures have disappeared to. We might also discuss how they will _not_ be allowed to bother you again. And then, I'll get you your shoes. Can't have you walking around the cold halls without something on your feet to keep your little toes warm.” He cast a subtle warming charm towards her feet as she smiled approvingly.

"Thank you, Scourge. You're such a good friend," she said as she gave him a small (awkward to him) hug. She turned away and continued skipping down the hall, singing softly to herself.

_" **W** hen Nargles fly 'round 'n 'round,_  
_**W** hen evil is not friend._  
_**T** hen, a battle cry does sound,_  
_**A** nd friendship does expend._  
_**I** s this time to forgive?_  
_**T** ime to turn away?_  
_**N** ay, these Nargles should not live,_  
_**T** heir ruin they should repay._

He shook his head at her antics then decided to go for a little hunt. He had to find some 'Nargles' to discuss some _issues_ with.

**\----------**

_(Scourge) 21:03_

> off 2 fnd sum mre asshls 

_(Miyagi) 21:04_

> from ur list? 

_(Scourge) 21:04_

> nope just reg asshls 

_(Scourge) 21:05_

> thy r fukn wth moon

_(Miyagi) 21:06_

> ah playin the white knight

_(Miyagi) 21:07_

> good for u kid do the right thing 

_(Scourge) 21:09_

> not a fukn wht knght

_(Miyagi) 21:10_

> snort sure kid 

_(Scourge) 21:11_

> shut th fuk up 

_(Miyagi) 21:11_

> do i need to meet her parents?

_(Scourge) 21:13_

> h8 u

_(Miyagi) 21:14_

> u should go never keep lady waiting

_(Scourge) 21:15_

> o look ddnt hav 2 go fnd asshle

_(Scourge) 21:16_

> my dads 1

_(Miyagi) 21:18_

> as hip kids say… lol 

_(Scourge) 21:19_

> found th clssrm gtg 

_(Miyagi) 21:21_

> have fun b smart n get the girl

_(Scourge) 21:22_

> *eyeroll* bye

**\----------**

It hadn't taken Harry long to find three of the four girls Moonbeam had described in an abandoned classroom. He could hear them giggling and gossiping, probably about their bitchy ass actions toward his friend. He paused outside the door and listened in on what they were saying before he went inside.

_“Merlin's ugly robes! Did you see her stupid cork necklace? How anyone could dress like that is beyond me,” a girl's voice reached him through his listening spell._

_“Loony looked absolutely ridiculous today! I’m just glad we were able to rid her of those disgusting earrings. My mother would positively disown me if I wore insects as a fashion statement,” another girl chuckled._

_“Ha! Fashion statement! More like disaster… I almost gagged over the socks,” the third girl interjected._

_The first girl lightly snorted and laughed, “Merlin! Loony is such a waste of good magic. She was complaining to Professor Flitwick that ‘Nargles’ took her stuff. It’s a good thing we’ll never get caught… people will spend the whole time out there looking for her stupid fake animals.”_

With that last statement the girls dissolved into a gaggle of giggles, congratulating each other on a job well done. Harry curled one lip up in a snarl. They didn’t even _know_ what a job ‘well done’ was, but he would show them. He was feeling in a most generous and instructive mood, after all.

He drew his magic up and cloaked himself in invisibility while opening the door and slipping inside. The girls were so involved with themselves that they did not even notice when the door opened and closed. He quickly cast locking and warding spells on the door to prevent anyone from seeing or hearing what happened inside the classroom. He tossed up another quick spell to ensure secrecy between the four of them, so nothing seen or spoken in the room could be told about afterwards. (“Never leave witnesses, kid. And if you have to, make sure you _know damn well_ that they won’t talk.”)

The girls were sitting there, oblivious of the danger that had just entered their midst. He pulled his wand and whispered an _epoximise_ on each of their chairs to stick them there. After he had ensured all the spells were in place, he stood in the middle of the chairs and summoned their wands to him.

They all screamed out in shock when their wands flew into the air and seemingly floated there, out of reach. They tried to get out of their chairs, with no luck due to the sticking spell that Harry had cast before.

“Ah ah ah, ladies… and I say that term as _loosely_ as possible. Please, stay seated. I know you feel like you need to stand in my presence, but I assure you that there is no need for such formalities,” Harry sneered behind his invisibility.

The Asian girl (Cho?) wrinkled her nose in disgust at where his voice was coming from. “Excuse me. But who in Merlin’s name are you?”

“I’m the one telling you how it is. That’s not to hard to figure out, is it?” Harry scoffed.

The second girl, Morag (?), snarled at him, “Show yourself, whoever you are. You better let us go. You’ll be in so much trouble when we get out of here.”

The rather pretty looking Indian girl (Padma?) started to tremble a bit at the threat of the unknown intruder in their midst. “Just leave us alone. Go away and we won’t say anything. Just go!”

Harry snorted and let his invisibility drop. He looked at the three of them and cocked an eyebrow. “Know me now?”

“You’re the American transfer… why in Merlin’s name are you doing this?” Morag screeched.

“Huh, well, you went and annoyed me, so I thought I would gather us all together for a little chat. I’ve heard some _distressing_ things… things that I certainly _hope_ aren’t true. But, I guess we’ll see,” Harry shrugged.

“What are you talking about? Distressing things? We don’t even _know_ you!” Cho squawked.

“True, maybe you don’t know _me_ , but you sure as hell fuckin’ know my friend. And she said that some asshole ravens and a weasel stole some of her shit. And me… well, I don’t like thieves. And I really fuckin’ _HATE_ bullies,” Harry glowered at them.

Padma shook even more in fear. “We didn’t do anything wrong. You’ve got the wrong people.”

Harry hummed in thought while he tapped his chin and observed the girls stuck to their chairs. He leaned into Padma’s face and growled, “Where… the… fuck… are Luna’s things?”

Morag snorted incredulously. “This is about _Loony_?? Why would you even care about that crazy bint?”

Harry turned his head to look at Morag and narrowed his eyes. “Not sure what a ‘bint’ is, but it sounds shitty so don't fuckin' call her that.” He turned back to Padma and pointed his wand at her forehead. “Where are her fuckin’ things? Tell me!”

Padma started stuttering, “I..I… don…uh.”

“T-T-T-TODAY JR.!” Harry yelled in her face.

“STOP!!” Padma screamed, before bursting into tears. 

Sigh, he hadn’t even done anything _fun_ yet. Jesus Christ, she broke easily. Time to move on! He moved over to where Cho sat and tapped his wand on her nose while she tried to avoid being hit.

“You’re next, bitch. Where the fuck are Luna’s things? Don’t make me get all creative in finding out where they are. You won’t like me when I’m _creative_ ,” Harry said with an evil smirk.

“Stay away from me! You’re insane! We’ve done nothing wrong, and besides… it’s _just_ Loony. She thinks ‘Nargles’ stole her precious things!” Cho hollered.

Harry sighed in frustration. This was going nowhere. He bent down and grabbed his switchblade from his boot and popped it open. “See this? I much prefer it to hurting people with magic. It’s more personal, you know. Just like you stealing my friend’s shoes and things was _personal_. So, for every thing that she has missing… I’ll just cut a little out of you.”

She leaned back in the chair whimpering, while Padma’s cries increased in volume. Morag had begun to string together a litany of interesting wizarding swearwords. He would have to share some of them with Sirius next time they talked.

He sent a binding spell her way so that she would stop fuckin’ wriggling in the chair. He grabbed her arm and pushed up the sleeve of her robe. On her bicep he slowly carved down one line, over one line, left a small space, drew down a long line and over the last line. Stepping back from her bloody arm, he admired the ‘LL’ that he had drawn into her skin.

Giving his fingers a chef’s kiss, he nodded at Cho, who had started crying the moment his knife touched her skin. “There... beautiful. Her name is Luna Lovegood. Since you’re so obsessed with her, I gave you a ‘L’ ‘n fuckin’ ‘L’. You’ll get to keep her initials on you _forever_ , to remind you every time you want to treat her like shit. Don’t worry, I’ll inject it with a little of my magic so that only the four of us will ever know about it or see it.” 

He looked at the other two girls and bared his teeth. “You two don’t need to feel left out, either. I’ll give you the same pretty brand. Oh! And I’ll even make it prettier for all of you. I know that you all must _love_ the color purple… since you fuckin’ _stole my friend’s purple quill_ , so I’ll inject the color in the cuts. It will look like a muggle tattoo, or brand, or really cool purplish scar! How awesome for you! I’m really almost jealous that you bitches get to walk away from this with something so fuckin’ neat.”

Ignoring the tears and whimpering, he gave the other two girls the same ‘LL’ on their shoulders, making all of them have a lovely (slightly bloody) purple brand to honor his friend.

The girls were still crying and bemoaning the initials on their arms when he asked again, “Okay, now, anyone feel like telling me where the _fuck_ my friend’s shit is?”

Morag glared at him through her tears. “It’s in the astronomy tower, hanging off the outside. Merlin! Heal us and go away! We’ll leave Loony alone!!!”

Harry narrowed his eyes at the three girls and raised his wand. “Her… name… is… _LUNA_!” He intoned _crucio_ for a few seconds on each girl to drive his point home. By this time, the three of them were a quivering mass of whimpers.

Looking at the three girls with distain, Harry sneered again, “Leave her alone. Leave her shit alone. Forget you even fukin’ _know_ her. If you don’t, well let’s just say a little fuckin’ tattoo will be the _least_ of your problems. Your seats will let you go in ½ hour. I’d heal you before I go, but I don’t have enough fucks left to give for your pain." 

He stopped, tilted his head in thought and pulled his pockets inside out as if looking for something. Shaking his head, he put them back the right way. He looked back at the girls and snarled, "Nope, as you can see, I'm fresh out. Not one fuck left at all. Heal yourselves. Your wands are on the desk over there. See? I’m fuckin’ nice enough to return them to you. If you see me or Luna ‘round school, turn the other way. You’re fuckin’ trash. You assholes are perfect examples of why I kill people.”

Ignoring their continued cries, Harry unlocked the door (leaving the silencing and secret wards in place) and walked out toward the astronomy tower. 

**\----------**

After he found her ‘treasures’, he walked to the Ravenclaw common room and politely asked the portrait to get Luna for him. A moment later she appeared.

“Hello, Scourge,” she beamed at him.

“Hey, Moonbeam. Found some Nargles. Had a nice... chat. They felt _real bad_ about causing any trouble, and gave me back all of your stuff. They shouldn’t bother you again, but you be sure to tell me if they do.”

Luna hopped with glee as she took her shoes, socks, earrings and quill back from him. “Oh, thank you, Scourge! You are such a wonderful friend!” She leapt forward and quickly hugged him. (He was starting to get used to it, almost.)

“No worries Moon, just point me in the direction of any Nargle that bothers you, and I’ll take care of ‘em,” Harry chuckled with a slight blush on his cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warnings:** torture, knife violence/skin carving, light mutilation of live Nargles, light mention blood/cuts, canon typical spell violence
> 
> 1. The Predictions of Tycho Dodonus, Tycho Dodonus, _pub. pre 1927_  
>  2. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, J.K. Rowling, _pub. 2003_
> 
> Movies Quoted/Referenced:  
> 
> 
>   1. The Princess Bride (1987)
>   2. The Karate Kid (1984)
>   3. Get Shorty (1995)
>   4. Billy Madison (1995)
> 



	32. On Politics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry goes to Wizengamot, much to the dismay of one Albus Dumbledore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Politics is not Harry's or my favorite thing. Also, not my favorite chapter. I couldn't get it where I wanted it to be, and I've had a crappy day so I might be thinking it's worse than it is. Either way, here it is and hope you don't hate it. 💜 for everything y'all do to show support.

_“No worries Moon, just point me in the direction of any Nargle that bothers you, and I’ll take care of ‘em,” Harry chuckled with a slight blush on his cheeks._

**\--- Tuesday, October 14 th, 1997 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Hogwarts ---**

Even though Dumbledore tried every tactic possible to keep 'Henry Castiglione' too busy to attend his first Wizengamot, Harry was eventually given the day off of classes so that he could attend the session in the middle of the month. He was actually looking forward to seeing Tom and annoying the shit out of Dumbledore through politics. (Yes, Lucy, he really _did_ pay attention through some of those lessons.)

_(Scourge) 23:13_

> court tmmrw

_(Miyagi) 23:15_

> im disappointed u got caught 

_(Miyagi) 23:16_

> thought i taught u to stay away from cops 

_(Scourge) 23:17_

> vry fnny frank

_(Miyagi) 23:18_

> i thot so

_(Miyagi) 23:18_

> u prepared? 

_(Scourge) 23:19_

> thnk so tom wll b thre

_(Miyagi) 23:20_

> youll do great vinny bag'o donuts 

_(Scourge) 23:22_

> ya thnk 

_(Miyagi) 23:22_

> yeah kid youll be fine

_(Miyagi) 23:23_

> let me know how it goes

_(Scourge) 23:24_

> will do l8trs

**\----------**

**\--- Wednesday, October 15 th, 1997 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Ministry of Magic, Wizengamot ---**

Tom picked him up at the gates of Hogwarts wearing his pretty ‘going out in public’ disguise. They apparated from there to the entrance of the Ministry of Magic. Tom huffed in annoyance at the sheer ridiculousness of the method of entry, as he lifted the phone in the abandoned red telephone box and dialed ‘62442’ in order to gain entrance. Their badges popped through the slot, proclaiming him ‘Lord H. Castiglione - Wizengamot Member’, and they entered the building. (Harry wished that Tom would have allowed him to get the _real_ version of the badge that he wanted: 'Scourge - Fucker Upper of Dumbleass'.)

Walking down the halls toward the chambers where Wizengamot was being held, Harry noticed many wizards and witches that he was familiar with through Death Eater meetings. Making sure to remain in his subdued and proper ‘Lord’ mentality as he gave polite nods and murmured ‘hellos’. Tom steered him toward the door of the council, and he waited at the entrance, off to the side and out of sight. He would need to stay out of the room until the meeting officially started. In order to actually claim his seat, he would have to be magically accepted into his seat. Then he would be able to cast his votes.

He watched the heads of the Houses of the Sacred 28 as well as other Houses that had votes, both dark and light, walk into Wizengamot, carrying on hushed conversations among themselves. Most of them were dressed in their formal plumb colored robes and odd hats that looked like Toques on their heads.(1) Others were dressed in black robes with the same style of hat. The robe was a show of rank within the Wizengamot. Harry was wearing his dress robes, since he had not officially been sworn into the council. Tom did not get to wear the plumb robes, either, because he was not an actual member and only an acting one.

Harry observed Dumbledore the most. He brought up the rear of the group of wizards and witches. His grandfatherly fake ass personality was in full swing as he greeted people and twinkled his eyes. He ensured that he made eye contact with all of those he considered ‘light’ and worthy of his attention, murmuring the importance of certain items that were being brought before the court today. He looked around before continuing into the room, searching the corridors. Harry assumed that he was looking to see if the new Lord Castiglione showed up to finally join the Wizengamot. He gave a smug little smile before twinkling his eyes once again and entering the council room. The doors finally closed after he had entered.

Tom leaned over to Harry and reminded him of the procedures that will happen once they enter. “You will enter, the Chief Warlock will ask if there are any additions or losses to the Wizengamot membership. At that time, you will walk forward and declare yourself as ‘Lord Henry Castiglione’, claiming both the Potter seats and the Castiglione seat… which we know doesn’t really exist except through Gringotts. Then, since you are still in school and claiming me as guardian, we will take our seats in the dark area. I have instructed Lord Lestrange and Lord Rosier to save an area for us to join them.”

Harry nodded in understanding and waited for the signal for them to enter. It took a few minutes for them to be called. He assumed that it was because they were allowing time for the Wizengamot to actually sit down, and maybe for Lucy to gloat once again that he had Chief Warlock status over Dumbledore. Who knew? Either way, they were finally called, and Harry was allowed to walk through the doors, with Tom on his heels.

Lucy sat in the middle of the Wizengamot, high above the floor on behind a podium. The rest of the members at the sides of him, imposing looking in their colored robes and stern faces.

“Is there any business regarding the gain or loss of Wizengamot members today, the fifteenth of October, year nineteen hundred and ninety-seven?” Lucy’s voice rang out through the chamber.

Harry stepped forward and said calmly in response, “I will come forth and claim my seats.”

Murmurs arose as he walked toward the podium and stood before Lucy. Although Lucy’s face never changed from his impassive ‘Malfoy’ mask, Harry _did_ see a small twinkle of pleasure in his eyes. “And what seats are you to claim, young wizard?”

“Members of Wizengamot, I am claiming the seats for the House of Castiglione, as well as the affiliated House of Potter. In all, I will be claiming two seats along with my seventeen votes, Chief Warlock Malfoy,” Harry proclaimed.

Small gasps and grumbles went through the crowd and Dumbledore narrowed his eyes slightly, the damned twinkle _finally_ dimming. The court scribe, another ginger wizard (probably a fuckin’ Weasley) wrote furiously as the comments flew throughout the room. Eventually Lucy banged his gavel and ordered everyone to quiet so that they might continue.

Dumbledore blustered at the sight of Harry, even though _he knew_ he would be there. (Apparently, he just _had_ to put on a show for his people. Ever the drama queen, no wonder he and Tom were against each other – there can be only one, after all.) He rose from his seat and raised his wand into the air so that Lucy might acknowledge him to speak in Wizengamot. Lucy nodded and told him to speak.

“Wizards and Witches, Lords and Ladies, esteemed members of Wizengamot, I would like to recommend that before we allow this young man into our midst that he prove without a shadow of a doubt that he is even authorized to use the House of Potter votes. He has been using his proxy until now to ‘vote legally’ with the Potter seat, however I maintain that their House had _no_ relative with the name Castiglione. I also would like to point out that the child in question, although seventeen, is still in school and should not be here while he is still receiving his education. It is my opinion, as well as that of the light, that those who are under a certain age should not shoulder such responsibility as making decisions for the wizarding world. For that matter, until he is completely vetted, any and all votes made by his proxy for the past year should be stricken from the record and recounted,” Dumbledore said sagely, nodding at important points to emphasize them. 

Harry felt slimy magic wash over him during certain words and phrases. He realized that Dumbledore was using his subliminal suggestions, pushing magic out into the Wizengamot council in order to make them trust him more. He had to wonder if others could feel it, and why there weren’t wards to prevent it from happening.

“Excuse me, Chief Warlock, I do have a question before we continue with discussing my ability to take my seats,” Harry interrupted as respectfully as he could. (Trying not to gag over the nasty feel of Dumbledore’s magic and trying to tamp down the anger he was feeling over the fact that the man was so blatantly manipulating the wizarding populace.)

Lucius looked at him and said, “You have the floor, Lord Castiglione.”

“Thank you. I have not been in the British wizarding world long; however, I do have some idea of the way things _should_ be done in a court of law. At no time have I been informed that someone’s magic would be authorized to be used as a ‘calming and suggestive’ force inside the proceedings,” he said shrewdly, avoiding eye contact with Dumbledore so as not to make it known who he was talking about.

“What? What are you talking about sir?” One of the wizards, Lord Abbot, to the side of Lucius asked. The rest Wizengamot had begun to whisper and murmur amongst themselves over Harry’s question.

Lord Bulstrode also questioned, “No one should be allowed to do such a heinous thing in this magical court. How could that even be?”

Harry glanced around at all the members before facing Lucius again. “I am one who is empathic to magic, Chief Warlock. I felt a push of an unknown magic in the room when our esteemed Headmaster Dumbledore’s speech was being said. I _know_ , after having met the man and discussed many things with him, that he would _never_ do anything so untoward. However, I worry that someone might be attempting to subvert him in some way. I do so _worry_ about his reputation with those odd articles coming out. It just _wouldn’t do_ for anyone to think ill of him.” He chuckled to himself. He _might_ be laying it on a little thick, but, hey, it was all a fuckin’ play and he was doin’ his very best acting job _ever_.

Lucius banged his gavel again, trying to get quiet throughout the session. They finally calmed after Amelia Bones and Lady Longbottom demanded that the Unspeakables come and ensure that the session was not compromised.

Harry chanced a peek at Dumbledore who had intermittently glared in his direction and attempted to soothe the crowd. He kept trying to cajole the light wizards into believing that this whole issue was merely a fluke. Nothing bad had happened. Wizengamot was a completely safe place to be, and _no one_ would dare use their magic against the members.

What a great fuckin’ leader he was, Harry chuckled. It was decided that a recess would be taken so that the Unspeakables could do their work, and then the Wizengamot could continue afterwards.

\----------

They said the signature of the magic was untraceable. (Fuckin’ liars, the lot of ‘em. They had to be Order members who would back Dumbledore’s every move, up to and including wiping the man’s ass.) However! They did have to bring in other Unspeakable warders who set up stricter wards against the use of unauthorized magic within the chamber. So, Harry figured it was at least a small victory.

Wizengamot got back underway with a more frustrated Dumbledore sitting back in his chair and a smug Tom standing behind him, as he awaited joining the council. He addressed the concerns regarding his legitimate claims toward the Castiglione and Potter. A member of Gringotts (hi Ragnok!) was brought in to prove the validity of his bloodline, his ability to claim the Potter seat and the fact that he _was_ who he said he was. (Yep, he should probably send Ragnok a fruit basket or somethin’. Do goblins even eat fruit? Or do they just eat the still beating hearts of their enemies? Huh, Harry would have a harder time putting together a gift basket of still beating hearts, but maybe Tom could help.)

Dumbledore’s mouth had formed a stiff white line during the process of him getting sworn into Wizengamot. His eyes were _not_ twinkling. He continually narrowed his eyes in Harry’s direction, probably trying to send his magic over to where they sat so it would make Harry follow his direction. Too bad, asshole, the wards seemed to be working.

They brought forth the first few new laws to be voted on. Nothing seemed too exciting to Harry. He _tried_ to stay engaged. Luckily, he had Tom there to make sure he knew what was going on and could vote accordingly. It’s not like he couldn’t make the decisions by himself… he just didn’t really _care_ if it didn’t involve a legitimate fight. This passive fighting was a bit too slow. He understood the reasoning. It was just… _boring_. The only thing keeping him engaged was watching the tick in Dumbledore’s cheek every time the light side lost a vote to the dark. Yes, that was the only thing that made it not a waste of time in Harry’s eyes.

Tom, bless his evil little shriveled heart, was showing as much enjoyment as Harry had seen to date. He loved bringing Dumbledore down a peg in the public eye. In Tom’s view, he hated the man as much as Harry did, but he was happy to do things a little less violently than Harry. He wanted to make sure that laws were passed to help bring about changes in the whole wizarding world. He was so thrilled to finally be pushing his agenda forward, and with Harry’s votes he was able to actually work even more, through the system, to push the asshole out of Wizengamot. 

Toward the end of the session, a new law regarding the requirement of wizarding education being expanded for muggleborns was brought before Wizengamot. It was backed by Lucius, the dark wizards on the Board of Governors as well as the rest of the dark faction. They believed that those who were entering into their world should have to take mandatory classes to integrate and learn their ways of life.

Dumbledore, to put it mildly, did _not_ agree with them. He considered learning about the old ways ‘dark’. He figured that if the new witches and wizards were to join in those sorts of celebrations, then they would most assuredly lean toward dark magic and shun the light side.

Basically, he was a senile moron.

“I do not believe that we should focus on these things for our children. They should, instead, be guided toward living a life more open to the muggle ways. We should _all_ open our minds and hearts to accepting them as they are. That, after all, is why we have Muggle Studies at Hogwarts, so that those purebloods and halfbloods will be able to understand these new students.” Dumbledore took a deep breath and affected his most disappointed grandfatherly face. “We must embrace tolerance, not enforce a division from the world that they have known for years.”

Yeaahhhh, ok there. Even Harry could understand the need to learn about the place you were going to. Look at him, he took a _whole year_ in immersive study to figure out this place so that he didn’t offend someone. He would think that Dumbledore would want to give his favorite people, those bright and new, separated from their families and easiest to grab ahold of and mold, a little more prepared to deal with what they have entered in to.

But, Harry guessed, that was the whole reason behind wanting to keep them ignorant… he got to shepherd them and make them look only to him for the answers. Welp. No. Harry wasn’t a speaker or anything, but he could help Tom and the ‘little people’ out here.

He raised his wand after Dumblefuck was done and was immediately recognized by Lucy. 

“Thank you, Chief Warlock. I would like to say, as one who came into your world just this year, that I would _greatly_ benefit from a course such as this. I have my own magical education from where I came, but to know your history and traditions could only help me be a better Lord in Wizengamot and leader in the wizarding world as I grow. I back this motion with both the Castiglione and Potter seats,” he said clearly into the quiet room.

Dumbledore’s eye twitch had doubled. He raised his wand to be heard again and it was granted. He faced Harry and said, “You did not know the Potters, child. You do not know what they would have wanted. They were a family who wanted to embrace the muggleborns and not want them to change their ways of life. They wanted tolerance, not pureblood ideals. They supported the light, not these dark ideals. They would be most disappointed that you were even considering this, my boy.”

Harry almost felt _his eye_ twitch at the use of the term ‘my boy’, but he merely nodded at him before he was allowed to give his rebuttal. “Well, _Mr._ Dumbledore, since the family is not here to discuss these issues with, and I am, I will vote how I please. I maintain that knowing the history and traditions of the world you live in is very important. Although everyone need not embrace them, knowing them is a must. I will uphold my backing of this motion.”

Lord Carrow called out a ‘Seconded’ and Lucy brought it to a vote. Much to Tom’s joy and Dumbledore’s ire, it passed 27 to 19, with 4 abstains. 

_Yay!_

**\----------**

_(Scourge) 18:36_

> dumfuk lost 2day

_(Scourge) 18:36_

> u shld hve seen his eye twtch lol

_(Miyagi) 18:38_

> see u can love politics

_(Miyagi) 18:39_

> everything went ok then? 

_(Scourge) 18:41_

> ya tom ws in hevn

_(Miyagi) 18:41_

> drama queen

_(Miyagi) 18:42_

> proud of u 

_(Scourge) 18:43_

> thx i actd all prpr n shit

_(Miyagi) 18:45_

> probably hardest mission ever if u had to act n look presentable 

_(Scourge) 18:46_

> ╭∩╮(Ο_Ο)╭∩╮ 

_(Miyagi) 18:47_

> snort pretty art there kid

_(Miyagi) 18:47_

> stay safe see u soon ill let u know a time to b ready

_(Scourge) 18:50_

> my gear is redy n cnt w8 2 go

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, J.K Rowling, _pub. 2003_
> 
> Movies Quoted/Referenced:
> 
>   1. My Cousin Vinny (1992)
>   2. Highlander (1986)
> 



	33. On Animal Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is annoyed, 'saves' some cats, and Dumbledore is _not_ having a good year so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigh, as always, torture scenes tend to get away from me. I might have some mental issues lol. This one, especially, might be a bit squicky for some people so please...please read the **Trigger Warnings** at the end of the chapter. I will let you know what to skip so you can go on your merry non-squicked-out way. Enjoy a nice long chapter. As always, you guys are awesome. 😁 (Have I said that before? Well, let me reiterate... you're all AWESOME!)

_my gear is redy n cnt w8 2 go_

**\--- 16:00 on October 31 st, 1997 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Hogwarts ---**

Harry was at the end of his rope with these assholes. He had one bossy ass girl trying to get his whole life scheduled, talking down to him constantly and spouting the never ending praises of their _esteemed_ Headmaster. (Ugh, she was so far up his ass it’s a wonder she was able to breathe.) Hermione kept telling him how much better her way was. How much better it was to fall in line with the teachings of the Great Albus Dumbledore. He had to wonder if these people had ever heard of Jim Jones.(1) They certainly were brainwashed like those poor bastards. (And Harry was _not_ drinking the fukin’ Koolaid, _that’s for sure!_ )

Neville, another poor bastard. They had pretty much tortured him into a shell of a human being. Harry felt for him. He really did. He knew what it was like to be abused and to be looked down upon. If Frank hadn’t come along and saved his ass, who knew where he would be now. But, Harry couldn’t just stop everything and save the kid. He _was_ going to be saved through Harry’s actions, he just needed to hang in there a bit more. Sometimes Harry considered bringing the shy boy into his confidence, but decided against it every time. (“The more people that know a secret, the more people can _tell_ a secret. Keep it to yourself, kid.”) So, no, he would stick to helping behind the scenes. He _would_ end up fixing Neville’s problems… just without the kid’s knowledge. Look at him go! Ninja savior!!

The one that Harry was having the _most_ trouble trying not to kill was Ron. The absolute trash hole of a human was lazy, loud, brash, annoying, stuck up, prejudice as all fuck, entitled and everything that Harry hated. It made it worse when he would whine about his lack of money and then side-eye Harry in hopes that Harry might feel sorry for him(?) and give him some. At least that’s what Harry assumed. There was only so much more time around the jerk that Harry would be able to handle before he started working on the Weasley family tree… and by ‘working on it’ he meant taking it the fuck out.

The _first_ Weasley to go, however, would be that ‘bint’ (thank you Morag for the new word!) of a sister, Ginerva. She was beyond fuckin’ annoying. Harry had taken to testing every food and drink item that was placed before him. She must have a never-fuckin’-ending supply of Amortentia in her robes. Jesus H. Christ. Every time she was around, something of his was dosed. Severus, bless his grumpy and dour soul, had provided him with the spells for detection and some love potion antidote. Harry had given some of his spiked food to Ron, just to see what happened, and _ick_. That was a picture that he would never get out of his head. Although, it _was_ stupid funny to watch Ginerva trying to avoid being attacked passionately by her brother. Eventually, he was taken to Madam Pomfrey who got the antidote from Severus… alas, all good (and decidedly gross) things must come to an end.

Either way, she was going to be the first Weasel to go. He couldn’t be wasting his allotted vengeance time trying to avoid her touches (hello… is sexual harassment even a thing in the wizarding world???), avoid potions, avoid her simpering and batting eyelashes, and frankly avoid throwing up around her disgusting perfume. Basically… he was done. And! She _was_ a Weasley. Win-win.

But first, Frank and Wade had planned a little night adventure to mark the anniversary of his parent’s deaths. They get him the _best_ presents.

**\----------**

**\--- 21:00 on October 31 st, 1997 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Little Whinging, Arabella Figg’s House ---**

Thanks again to the wonderful Polyjuice acting of Barty Crouch Jr., Harry was currently ‘enjoying himself at the Hogwarts Halloween Celebration’. Dumbledore had completely disregarded the Wizengamot ruling that he had to include a Samhain celebration, but Harry knew that some of the old families’ children were celebrating in their own way. ‘He’ however was showing face with Luna-beam (who was quickly becoming his absolute _favorite_ partner in crime - aside from Frank and Wade) at the school’s main celebration in the Great Hall. Harry kind of wondered how it was going, since he wasn’t really there and all. He would have to get the run down from Barty later. See if he made an ass of himself.

Ignoring the curiosity about what was happening at Hogwarts right then, Harry focused on where he was at that moment. Standing outside a house on Wisteria Walk that one Arabella Figg resided in. Frank and Wade were meeting him there. After he had escaped through the tunnels and apparated over, he waited on the side of the house, out of line of sight and in the shadows. It was time for some father/son/crazy-ass-sidekick bonding. (No, Wade… not _bondage_. Get your mind out of the gutter!)

“Mini Scourge! Welcome to the party, pal! It has been too long, mi sombrero! Mi chimichanga! My tiny enchilada! My life is a dark abyss without your rapier wit and love of junk food to keep me sane. I have had to make do with hanging out with Logan ‘ _Don’t Touch My Claws or I’ll Kill You_ ’ Howlett and Mr. Frank ‘ _Look at Me Wrong and I’ll Kill You_ ’ Castle. Believe me, Baby Menacing Marvel… I’ve died _a LOT_!” Wade cried on Harry’s shoulder when he saw him.

Harry chuckled and patted Wade on the head. “Don’t worry, Dead. We’ll try not to kill you tonight.” He turned and glanced at Frank who had just walked up, “Right, Frank?”

“Not promisin’ anythin’. If he turns into an annoyin’ asshole, he gets what he gets,” Frank grumbled.

Yep, Harry had missed these guys, he thought with a huge grin.

The TV was on inside the house and the smell of cat piss surrounded the area. It brought back nauseating memories for Harry from every time he came over to stay with this woman. He had some serious feline PTSD from that smell. Harry was just glad his animagus wasn’t a damn cat… he probably would have just never transformed.

They made their way through an open window. (Seriously, people needed to be more cognizant of their surroundings and security. There are _bad_ guys out there who could take advantage!!) The cat piss smell only increased inside the house. There were dozens of cats milling around the home, pausing to look at the three men who had entered, then going on their merry cat ways. Wade wrinkled his mask and waved his hand in front of it. “Holy guacamole! This woman gives ‘crazy cat lady’ a bad name! I mean, I’m lonely, but I’m not ‘get twenty fucking cats and have them take over my house’ lonely. Cripes!”

Harry snorted, then regretted it immediately because the smell invaded his nostrils twice as bad. Even Frank, ever the stoic and quiet Marine, brought his gloved hand up to his nose to block some of the smell. Which is saying something… he and Harry had done _dozens_ of ~~torture~~ interrogations where someone lost control of their bladder. Or had gone on missions where the smell was horrible due to sewage, the smell of some third world countries, and even the bad rotten egg smell coming from a chicken factory they had to infiltrate that one time. (Don't ask. Needless to say, Harry was put off chicken for quite a few weeks afterwards.) Either way, they had been in some rank ass places. To have to wrinkle their noses to block out the smell here was definitely a sign that this woman was _not_ taking care of her animals.

Which, since she was tasked with taking care of Harry so many years ago, he wasn’t too surprised that she sucked at taking care of four-legged living things too.

They found her sitting in her recliner, watching the BBC One re-airing of the Clive Anderson interview with the Bee Gees from the night earlier. Apparently, they were getting pissed at the man. Harry thought they looked like they were ready to wring his neck. He would have liked to watch the show, but he had things to do. Sigh, priorities.

Frank passed him his favorite garrote and Wade drew one of his katanas. Harry slowly moved to where she sat, slid the garrote over her head, and pulled tight. She immediately attempted to scream and fight her way out of it, but Harry was too strong for the tiny older woman. He held her there for a while, letting her fight to get a breath, and then he released a bit of the tension on the wire. She gasped out in pain and terror before he pulled it tight one more time. He could see her face turning a lovely shade of purple in the light of the television. Finally releasing her, he passed the garrote back to Frank and walked around to the front of her chair.

“Thirty minutes and counting, kid. Make it good,” Frank ordered.

Wade bounced on his toes and grinned through his mask. “OOooh, there’s _so much_ you can do in thirty minutes! Watch an episode of the Simpsons… I recommend Treehouse of Horror from Season 2. The Raven is just primo in that. Oh! You can order and eat a whole pizza. You can bake cupcakes, my favorite are the funfetti ones, if you are making them for me… with chocolate frosting. Or, in our case, you can spend the entire time torturing a little old evil lady who helped enable the abusers of the Mini-est Babiest Scourge in all the land!!”

Harry laughed while Frank glared at Wade to shut him up. 

“Thanks, Wade. Let’s go with the last option.” Harry looked over at Mrs. Figg who had adopted a mask of sheer terror on her face as she watched their byplay. The ugly red line that had formed from the garrote around her neck was turning a sickly purple. “Oh, I’m sorry. Were we ignoring you, Mrs. Figg? My bad.”

“Who are you?” She asked hoarsely, grating out each word as if it was a massive fight to get it past her vocal cords.

“Nah, I don’t have time for the whole back-story on this one, do I Frank?” Harry said as he glanced over at Frank who was watching out the window for anyone who came along to interrupt them.

He paused his surveillance and shook his head minutely, “No, just do it and go. If you want to wax fuckin’ poetic _while_ you’re doing it… go ahead. I’m not gonna stop you. Fuck, you could sing the National fuckin’ Anthem for all I care. Just fuckin’ work while you’re yappin.”

Harry snorted at the man he called dad. He certainly had a poetic way with words. Looking back at Mrs. Figg he smiled ruefully, “Sorry. I’ll explain while we do this, then. It’s a lot more fun if we have a back and forth, but time crunch and all. You understand.”

Wade chuckled behind the mask and asked, “Where do you want me to start?”

Harry flipped open his switchblade and advanced on the woman in the chair, who by this point had realized that something _very_ bad was happening and had dissolved into hiccoughing tears. He slipped his wand out and quickly sent a body bind on her so that she wouldn’t move but could hear and see all that was going to happen.

Cutting up her sleeve, he opened the arm of her shirt. He did the same to the other side. He cut down the legs of her pajama pants, from the knee down. Wade profusely mumbled his thanks under his breath for not revealing any of the lady’s shriveled naughty bits, citing the potential to be scarred for life. (Ha! Scarred… Wade… get it?)

Mrs. Figg’s whimpers could be heard through her frozen mouth, but nothing moved. Yay body bind! Harry turned to Wade and motioned him over. “Ok, you take left, I’ll take right. I figure we do about three-inch cross cuts, one inch away from each other. Open them as much as you can, but make sure not to go _too_ deep. We don’t want her to bleed out or anything. We want her to _enjoy_ this. Just like we’re making sure that the little kitties enjoy their snack.”

Wade made beautiful hatch marks with his katanas, up and down her leg and around her arm. Harry did the same on his side. Frank grunted at them to hurry their asses up because they only had twenty minutes left.

Harry stepped back to check their work. Blood covered the woman in the chair, all over her arms and legs. Beautiful cross marks, painstakingly done, even with the time crunch. (“If you’re going to do something, kid, do it right the first time. It’s a fuckin’ bitch to have to come back and do it all over again.”)

“Well, Mrs. Figg. You might be wondering _why_ we’ve come to visit you on this most wonderful of nights. It is, after all, one of my very, most important-est anniversaries. It’s the day that I got turned into…” he spun around in a small circle, letting his dragon hide cloak twirl and his guns and knives be displayed for the woman in the chair, “ _THIS_!! You see, _you_ helped. Whether you wanted to or not, you followed that great fake of a Fuckledore and fell in line with the bullshit he was preaching. You helped me stay in a fuckin’ house where they hit me, starved me, berated me, kept me in a fuckin’ cupboard, and made me work my hands to the fuckin’ bone. Every... fuckin’... day.” 

Harry leaned into Mrs. Figg’s face and twitched his fingers to allow her to speak, first putting a finger to her lips. “Just so you know, I’ve silenced the area around us. You can scream, but we’re short on time as it is, so I figured you should choose your words wisely if you would like some answers.”

“Who?” She gasped out, obviously in massive pain from the multitude of cuts all over her body. “Who are you? I’ve…I’ve d..done nothing t..to you.”

Harry stood back and raised one brow at her. He looked at Frank, then at Wade, then back at her incredulously. “Are you shittin’ me? You fucked me over by ignorin’ what was happening in that house. You were _put_ here to watch me and make sure I was okay! Newsflash, asshole, I wasn’t okay. I _really_ fuckin' wasn't okay. I was starving and abused. You saw it, you _knew_ it, you were paid to ignore it. Paid out of _my_ fuckin’ trust vault.”

“Fifteen minutes. Wrap it up, kid.”

Harry sighed and ran his hand down his face before looking her dead in the eye. “Okay, let me ‘splain... No, there is too much. Let me sum up.”

“OOOhhh, nice one there, Scourge. Always bring it back to Inigo Montoya when you can,” Wade cackled.

Harry snorted at him then looked back at Mrs. Figg. “I’m Harry Potter. I’m a wizard who grew up in this neighborhood, hidden away from my kind. Abandoned to live a horrible life with abusive relatives. You are a squib. You knew _all_ about me. You stole money, through Dumbleass, from my trust vault to ‘watch over me’ as I was growing up. You did a shitty job. I got hurt every day. You didn’t give a fuck about anything except for your cats. I don’t even like cats. You _and_ your house smell like cat piss. And Jesus fuck, woman!!! Twenty-five fuckin’ cats is way too many! I hope animal control takes them after they eat you for dinner.”

Mrs. Figg’s eyes had grown larger and larger as he spoke. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she tried to protest what he was saying. 

Frank interrupted with a terse, “Ten minutes. Finish it the fuck up.”

Harry shrugged and said, “Welp, that’s my cue. I’m gonna silence you again. Don’t really wanna listen to you bitch about the fact that your precious little babies are gonna have you for dinner. I’d say sorry, but I’m not.”

He spread out his hands and allowed his magic to wash over the house, whispering _feles fames, comedent tuus_ (2) and drawing small runes in the air. The cats in the house quickly perked up and walked toward the living room where their master sat, petrified in her chair, bleeding profusely from all the cuts that Harry and Wade had made. There had to be at least twenty or more cats in this lady's house. They climbed all over her chair and started in on the areas on her body that were already cut open, tearing with their tiny fangs and clawing her skin open even more. Where the garrote had been applied earlier was scratched until it too opened and started to bleed. Her eyes were wide and terrified as she was swarmed by her most precious babies. The sounds of wet flesh being nibbled and devoured filled the room. 

Wade looked almost nauseous watching the cats eat the woman. (If a red mask could turn green, it would have.) “Seriously, Scourge... the author was just plain nasty with this one. Death by cats? _Meow_!”

Frank was merely watching the scene with one eyebrow cocked.

And Harry? Well he thought it was poetic fuckin’ justice that the woman, who cared so much for these animals instead of a small boy, was _literally_ giving her life for them. 

She was still breathing, even after all that the cats had done to her. Her body was ravaged by animal bites, flesh tears, and claw marks. Her face was frozen in horror from when he had put her in a body bind. The cats were intermittently licking the blood off their paws and going back for more bites of flesh.

It was enough. He had seen enough. Besides, they needed to leave soon, as Frank quickly reminded him. Harry took out his pistol, aimed it for her forehead and whispered, “Two down,” then pulled the trigger. Grabbing his casing and clearing the room of evidence, he nodded to Frank and Wade. It was done.

\----------

The three men quickly left the house and headed to the safehouse so that they could shower off the absolute stench of the woman and her cats. Harry received a massive hug from Wade and a pat on the shoulder from Frank before he apparated back to Hogwarts. He met up with Barty at their previously determined exchange location. Barty was thrilled to recount the past hour of Hogwarts revelry he had experienced with Luna, probably because he missed his school days. Harry was happy to give him the chance to come back every once in a while, even though it was with a different face. 

Harry went out to the Halloween Celebration and met up with Moonbeam. She glanced up, when he walked over, and sent him a knowing look. When he sat next to her, she tucked her arm through his and leaned into his shoulder. She beamed up at him while interlacing their fingers, before whispering to him in a sing-song voice:

_“ **T** he beloved cat went here and there,  
**A** nd the moon watched as he went.  
**T** he creature of the night did tear,  
**'T** il master’s blood was spent.  
**F** our little paws, through blood did walk,  
**W** hilst nibbling on master’s toe.  
**‘T** is good thing none of them will talk,  
**O** r share this tale of woe.”_

He smiled back down at her and hummed in happiness, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. What a good anniversary this had turned out to be.

**\----------**

**\--- Interlude (Part VII) – Headmaster’s Office ---**

What a bad day this was turning out to be for Albus Dumbledore. There was _no_ amount of magic twinkle left in his eyes right then. He was nursing a horrible headache that would take all the lemon drops in the world to cure. Sitting at his desk he let his head droop a little while he massaged his temples. Taking off his glasses, he rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration.

The aurors came that morning to inform him that Mrs. Figg was dead. Another one his people was dead. And not just dead, _murdered_. Violently. With muggle methods this time. (And cat methods, but that was probably just them going crazy after their master had been killed.) Another person who had ties to his little Harry Potter conspiracy was removed from the equation. He was not sad that the woman had died. She had lived a long life, for a squib. She had served her purpose. And, she had taken her secrets to the grave, thank Merlin.

No, Albus was more anxious than anything. Sure, he was putting on a sad front for the members of the Order who knew what Arabella had done for Harry. (Or thought they knew.) But someone else out there knew what had _really_ happened to that boy. Someone else knew. They _had_ to know. And they were coming for him soon. 

It had to be the muggles who killed the Dursleys all those years ago. But what would make them start the fight again a decade later? What would make them wait… and then come back? And who was next? Oh, this was very, very worrying. 

No, Albus was _not_ having a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warnings:** Torture, gun violence, knife violence, blood, depiction of potential animal cruelty (based on amount of animals, not actual physical harm), Wade being Wade, aaaannnnddd the squick factor of domestic animals eating human flesh (at end of torture scene).  
>  **\- To skip these, read 16:00 Oct 31 and below the break before Interlude VII only. You will only miss Arabella Figg's death (and Wade) but it will be glossed over in the Interlude VII-**
> 
> 1. Jim Jones. _Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia_. Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jim_Jones  
> 2. Latin: “kitty hunger, eat your master”
> 
> Movies Quoted/Referenced:
> 
>   1. Die Hard (1988)
>   2. Simpsons, Season 2 Episode 3 (1990)
>   3. The Princess Bride (1987)
> 



	34. On Mad, Bad, Poisonous Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry writes some letters and rids himself of a red-headed annoyance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in this one Harry goes a little outside his 'norm' when dealing with someone who's causing issues. However, I think that he gets his point across. Hope y'all enjoy. As always, thanks for the 💜
> 
> **Trigger Warnings** at end of chapter.

_What a good anniversary this had turned out to be._

**\--- Afternoon of November 7 th, 1997 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Hogwarts Grounds, Near Black Lake ---**

Luna and Harry walked over by the lake to escape the annoyances that were the Gryffindors and most of the Slytherins. Luna was just happy that her Nargles hadn’t been bothering her lately. (He was happy she was being left alone, but he _was_ itching for some more action. So, in that way, he almost missed the fact that there weren't people to deal with for her. Although, it _did_ mean that he could maintain his focus on his list.)

They planted themselves down on a blanket with their schoolbooks (not like Harry was really going to study) and Harry sent out a warming charm to surround them. It was getting to be winter in Scotland and he was _not_ happy with the weather. The gray, the 46°F brisk day, the wind, the clouds. It all wrapped around the two of them while they tried to get some peace and quiet.

“Who is next on the list, Scourge?” Luna asked dreamily. 

Harry had given up trying to figure out how his little Moon-sprite knew all that she did. It was easier to just smile and nod and accept the inevitable conversation about silly animals he couldn’t see, and murders she shouldn’t know about. (At least she didn’t think there was a fuckin’ ‘author’ like Wade did. _That_ idea was certainly a stretch of the imagination. However, dealing with Wade's... eccentricities _had_ made Harry more open to the... uniqueness of his little Moonbeam’s musings.)

“Eh, not really on the list, per se, just need to relieve myself of a certain little annoyance. It’s getting harder and harder to relax around food and drink. And I can’t fuckin’ stand that cloying ass perfume.” Harry stopped and looked over at Luna, who was laid out star fished on the blanket, staring up at the clouds. “She’s just a little too ‘rapey’ for me to deal with anymore. Besides, she _is_ part of the family, I guess, so it will be a small check mark on my list. I do have to start taking the vermin out of the equation soon.”

Luna giggled and turned to face him, golden hair forming a slight halo around her head. “Ah, Scourge, I know you’ll make it good. I almost wish I could be there to watch. She is, after all, one of the nasties that the Nargles allowed to hurt me.” She looked back up at the clouds and pointed to one that resembled a longer rodent. She chuckled lightly and hummed,

_” **H** alf a ounce of poison dosed,_  
_**M** akes my heart sing gleeful._  
_**T** hat’s the way that Hel does boast,_  
_**D** ead is the Weasel.”_ (1)

Harry snickered behind his hand. “Moon, you are abso-fuckin'-lutely my favorite person here. If you don't do anything else after school, you should at least write a book with all your lovely poetry. _I’d_ even read it.”

She leaned up on one elbow and met his gaze. “What a truly kind thing to say, Scourge. Just remember that weasels generally hunt alone. They’re very vicious. And they very rarely stay with a mate.(2) Be careful. I know you will be, but I do worry the weasel will try something _very_ bad _very_ soon. You should be ready.”

Harry hummed in thought and reached out to pat her head, scritching his fingers lightly through her hair. “I’ve got this, Luna-beam." He shook his head and pretended to gag. "And that's just straight up nasty, Moon. I wasn't planning on takin' her as a fuckin' _mate_ anyway. Ugh, just the thought makes my skin fuckin' crawl. Nah, I'll get rid of the pest. She'll be out of our hair. I'll get it done, I promise, and it will be done very, very soon.”

Her dreamy eyes twinkled at him. “Good.”

**\----------**

\--------------------  
_Voldisnorts,_

_Hey, quick question. Is muggle poison detectable in the wizarding world? They seem kinda bass-akwards with their healthcare and forensic science. Lemme know when you can._

_~ Your favorite evil buddy_  
\--------------------  
_Scourge,_

_Call me that again and I will poison you and all you hold dear. But, no, they do not test for muggle poisons when checking bodies who have died. Mediwizards and healers believe that deaths mostly come from magical means, not muggle. They would assume, if they thought it was a poison, that it was from a magical potion or herb. Thus, they would try to cure it with a bezoar, the antidote for most of those things._

_\- Lord Voldemort_  
\--------------------  
_Attn: Most Benevolent, Powerful, Honored and Esteemed, Lord and Master, Dark Lord Tomas Marvolo Riddle Voldemort III, Esquire, DDS., OPP., MSG (3) _

_My Lord,_

_Apologies for the besmirching of your most honored and revered name. I appreciate you lowering yourself to the level of us plebeians in order to impart your vast knowledge and wisdom upon me. I would ever be lost without your guidance. I bow before you in subservience. There is none greater than you. I am not worthy. No, My Lord, I am not worthy._

_Ever your lowly and groveling servant,_  


_~ Scourge  
_ \--------------------  
_Scourge,_

_You are a brat._

_\- Lord Voldemort_  
\--------------------  
_Tommy ~ my evil <3,_

_I know, but you love me anyway… kisses!_

_~ *SWAK* (4) ~ Scourge_

**\----------**

**\--- November 11 th, 1997 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Severus' Potions Lab, Hogwarts Dungeons ---**

"Scourge, do not take this as me denying your request, but what are you going to do with a restricted potion such as Veritaserum? I had thought you had the answers you were seeking already and were just taking care of the issue at hand,” Severus’ calm and detached voice reached him as he poked through his potion stores.

Harry scratched the back of his neck and bounced slightly from foot to foot. “So, this is a weird one, Sev. I know what they did (last summer! Ha!) but I kinda wanna know how deep this family's crazy goes. Luna says the girl is one of the more vicious ones. I figured, while I’m there, putting her out of my misery, I might see what else I can learn, you know.”

Severus fixed him with a droll look before doling out five drops of Veritaserum into a small phial for him. “Well do not do anything dunderheaded with this potion, young man. I have made this myself. Do remember this is a Truth Potion so powerful that three drops would have you spilling your innermost secrets to all. We would not want that, now, would we?” He asked with a raised brow.

Snatching the sealed phial out of Severus’ hand Harry smirked. “No worries there, Sev. My secrets are my own. Thanks for this!”

Shaking his head at Harry’s antics, Severus reminded him, “That is a _highly_ controlled potion, young man. Ensure you are not caught with it.”

“Got ‘cha! Thanks again.”

**\----------**

_(Scourge) 19:12_

> heyyy need AS33(5) wht pwdr ½ oz pls 

_(Miyagi) 19:14_

> fuck thats some punch u wanna pack 

_(Scourge) 19:14_

> eh shes worth it 

_(Miyagi) 19:16_

> so this -is- about the girl 

_(Scourge) 19:17_

> lol ya th 1 whos gonna (X_X)

_(Miyagi) 19:18_

> ah not the sprite then 

_(Scourge) 19:19_

> jsus fuk frank cn u staap wit that

_(Scourge) 19:19_

> cn u jst get me th pwdr prtty pls

_(Miyagi) 19:20_

> sure kid 

_(Miyagi) 19:21_

> all pretty girls like poison for a present 

_(Scourge) 19:21_

> hve i tld u i h8 u 2day 

_(Miyagi) 19:22_

> love u too kid

_(Scourge) 19:23_

> sigh snd w/ owl frm tom pls 

_(Miyagi) 19:24_

> can do 

_(Scourge) 19:24_

> thx frank

_(Miyagi) 19:25_

> anytime kid have fun 

**\----------**

**\--- November 13 th, 1997 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Classroom 7B ---**

Ginerva Weasley was not doing a very good job at stalking him. He had been tracking her the entire evening as she followed him through the halls and around the school. But, luckily for him, he had planned for this occasion. Shit, he was even _looking forward_ to it.

He led her higher and higher through the school, traversing the stairs up to the seventh floor. She followed at a ‘safe’ distance, but he tracked her the entire time. Pretending to be deeply involved in a book while he walked, he stopped in front of the empty classroom 7B, off the Fat Lady’s Corridor.(6) He allowed her to catch up to him and ‘run into him accidentally’. He sent her a shy smile.

“Hello, Ginny. What are you doing all the way up here? I thought I was alone with my book,” he said to her, widening his eyes while gesturing to the book in his hand.

She leaned her head to the side and twirled a lock of her ginger hair around her finger, while batting her overly made-up eyelashes. “Oh, Henry, I didn’t know you would be here,” she simpered.

_Fuckin’ right you didn’t. Jesus, did these people think he was an idiot?? No, wait… don’t answer that._

“I was just looking for a place to relax, maybe have a little snack and read for a while,” he explained. (Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly.)

“Oooh, I would _love_ to join you for an evening snack, Henry,” she batted her eyelashes even more at him. (Those fuckers are gonna fall off here soon. She looked like she wanted to eat _him_ for a snack.) "We have not had much of a chance to get to know each other. I know you are always with my brother and his friends, but I would really like the chance for us to get... closer, if you know what I mean."

_Harry was going to throw up in his mouth, if you know what he means._

Harry ducked his head, feigning embarrassment. “Uh, are you sure that you want _me_?”

She nodded at him, a little _too_ enthusiastically. He turned to the classroom and opened the door for her, gesturing her inside. After she entered, he followed her inside, subtly shooting a locking spell toward the door. He twitched his fingers to raise his silencing wards for the room, and then he turned to give her a blinding smile.

“So, I think that maybe I haven’t really given you a chance. I know I’ve been kinda scared to meet new people here. Where I’m from, we’re generally shy and reserved when dealing with the opposite sex.” (Bahahaha! MTV anyone???)

“Oh, Henry,” Ginerva said as she ran her fingernails down his sleeve.

_He’s gonna need a fuckin’ hour long scrub to get the nasty skeevies off of him after this shit was done. Bletch!_

“I’ll make sure that you know exactly how things go here,” she said in a ‘come hither’ voice. (Or Harry _thought_ that was what she was trying to do. Either way, she missed the mark completely.) 

Harry smiled shyly again and transfigured one of the desks in the room into a couch, and another into a small table. He took his ‘prepared’ tea set out of his pocked and resized it, conjuring some tea for the both of them. “Let’s sit down, my lady, and we can chat for a while and get to know each other better.”

She looked at him from under her lashes and sent a coy smile his way while sitting down. She patted the couch beside her. “You can sit close. I won’t tell anyone.” ( _GAG!_ )

He left some space between them and handed her a cup of tea. She took a small sip and Harry watched as the Veritaserum took hold. Her eyes glazed over, and she sat motionless.

“What is your name?” Harry asked, once he figured the potion had enough time to work.

“Ginerva Molly Weasley, often called Ginny,” she said in a monotone.

“When were you born?”

“August 11th, 1981.”

“Great! Okay, so now… why are you so obsessed with getting me to fall in love with you?” Harry asked her.

“I do not care about you loving me. My parents and the Headmaster told me that it would be in our family’s best interests for you to marry me. Then I would be a rich Lady. When it had been long enough, we would stage an accident and I would inherit everything.”

“Huh, okay, I knew that. But _why me_? There’s lots of other asshole Lords out there you could do this to.”

“You are unknown to the Headmaster and therefore dangerous. He wanted you to be kept in line. He did not like that you had taken the Potter name and inheritance from him. He was angry that he did not get to keep the money after Harry Potter’s 17th birthday passed. He was supposed to get to keep the inheritance because Harry Potter is dead.”

“Okay, let me get this straight. You and your family – and the Headmaster – stole Harry Potter’s money and would have continued to do so after he was declared dead. And the only reason you want me is because I got in the way of that? Good… good, I was worried there for a moment that you actually liked me, ‘cus, bitch… that was _never_ gonna work out. Now, I know there are like fifty of you Weasels out there. Was your whole family in on this plot?”

“No, Fred and George stay out of the family dynamics anymore. They washed their hands of mum and dad when they left school, saying that mum was too obsessed, and dad didn’t care about anything.”

Harry tapped his wand on his chin in thought. He didn’t know Fred and George, but the girl _had_ to be telling the truth. It _would_ knock a couple people off his list if he was able to skip them. “But everyone else was in on it? They all knew about the money theft and this stupid plot?”

“Percy was embarrassed by our family. Thought he was too good for us. He went to work for the Ministry, but stays far away from dad for the entire time he's there. He doesn't have anything to do with it. He'd actually be more likely to work against the family."

By her words, Harry assumed that she would be spitting mad about her older brother's actions. Luckily for him, he didn't have to deal with all that emotional baggage shit. He just got to listen to the facts. Thank you Veritaserum!

She continued, "Charlie has had nothing to do with the family, either, since he moved to Romania. He did not know where the money came from, and he does not talk to mum and dad now. Except at Christmas and Easter.”

“Hmm, okay. Oh, one last thing, have you done anything to Luna Lovegood since I had my little chat with those bitches in Ravenclaw?”

Ginerva slowly shook her head side to side. “No, I was warned to leave her alone by them. They were scared, for some reason, but did not tell me why. I would have done more to her but was waiting until I found the right time.”

Harry growled at that, but let it go. The bitch was getting hers anyway, no use getting angrier. “Welp! I think we’re done here. I got my answers. You’ve been very helpful, thank you.” (Look, Narcissa, manners and all that _shit_.) 

He placed her in a body bind, leaving her the ability to talk, before administering the antidote to the potion. She immediately shook her head in denial and started screaming at him to let her go. Tears formed at her eyes as she attempted to move anything below her neck, with no result.

“What are you going to do to me?? Are you going to have your wicked way with me??? I am pure! Pure, I tell you!!! My family will avenge anything you do to me,” she cried at him. (Pure?? Riiigggght.)

“Am I going to have my… what the _fuck?_ Gross. No, I’m not gonna have my fuckin’ _'wicked way'_ with you. Who the fuck even talks like that, anyway? Nope, you’re gonna do me a favor. You’re gonna write me a little note. Think you can do that?” He asked with an evil little smirk sent her way.

She shook her head back and forth, tears falling down her cheeks now. “No! I won’t do anything! You let me go. You’re horrible, just awful! No amount of money is worth this! I’ll tell the Headmaster… I’ll tell my mum and dad on you!!!”

“Jesus Christ, all I wanted was a note. Calm your tits. Okay, I can see we’re gonna have to do this whole thing the hard way. This is the last time we’ll get to chat that you’ll remember… any last words?”

“Why are you doing this???” She sobbed.

“Ah, good question. You see, Ginerva, of all human weaknesses, obsession is the most dangerous, and the silliest! You all have been obsessed with Harry Potter, and now with me. Oddly enough, we’re the same person! I’m me – always have been. Harry Potter, at your service. And, when you die, I might even be _at_ your service,” he chuckled. “Who knows,” he shrugged. 

“Anyway, I’ve gotta date to hang out with my favorite crazy sprite and then I have make curfew tonight. I’m on a tight schedule, and you’ve got a note to write and some tea to drink. I’d say it’s been nice knowing you, but you really, _really_ creep me out in a horrible stalker way. Therapy might have saved you. Instead, I’m going with a more permanent solution. Say hi to the others for me,” he grinned.

Ginverva had not stopped crying the whole time and had gasped out in surprise and horror at his little speech. 

_He was getting way too dramatic with these evil villain speeches. Frank would definitely have to rid him of this habit when they started working together again. It was a bit counterproductive when you’re trying to infiltrate, blow up, and get out fast. But, for right now, it was fun and he was going to enjoy it._

Placing a parchment and quill in front of her, he wiped all evidence of himself off of it. He raised his wand at her and intoned _imperio_ , then released the body bind. “You want to write a note on the parchment saying:

_~ Dear mum and dad,_

_I can’t do this. I tried to be what you wanted me to be. It is just too much to take anymore. I love you and my brothers very much, but there is nothing left for me here. I will let this Angel's Draught help me leave this world. Do not try to save me._

_Please forgive me,_

_~ Ginny_

And then you will drink the tea next to you on the table. Make sure to drink it all and do not leave one drop.”

Harry watched as she wrote, placing the arsenic laced tea next to her. She finished her note and took the cup, drinking down the last drop. When that was done, he switched it out with one laced with Angel’s Draught, just in case they found her early, recognized the potion, and tried to save her. (Newsflash: they wouldn’t. There would be no saving her.)

He released the _imperio_ and watched as her face immediately contorted in pain. Smiling, he watched her grab at her throat. He glanced at his watch to mark the time. He figured he had a few minutes to hang out until he promised to meet up with Moonbeam.

Ginerva had fallen off the couch and was lying in fetal position, grabbing at her stomach and shaking violently. He could tell that pain was gripping through her entire body. The amount he had dosed her with should only take a couple minutes to kill her, but he wanted to make sure. Her body started convulsing spastically. She was throwing up foam and bile onto the floor. (Gross.) Her eyes had rolled up into her head and Harry figured she only had a minute or so to go. 

He watched impassively as her breathing slowed and the shudders that wracked her body eventually stopped. She lay there, in a puddle of her own urine and vomit, dead of an apparent suicide. Angel’s Draught… how fitting. Poor girl, she was just too high-strung. He glanced at her and thought that the strain was more than she could bear.

Oh well, he thought, clearing the room of anything that might be tied back to him. He unlocked the door and pulled his invisibility over himself so that he could avoid anyone who might be wandering the halls. He left the door to 7B unlocked and unwarded. He did, after all, want someone to _eventually_ find her. Decomp smelled real bad if left too long.

With his chores complete, it was time to enjoy the rest of the evening with a decent book… maybe he’d read some Poe to Moon. She would enjoy that morbid shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warnings:** creepy stalking, graphic description of poisoning effects, passive mention of suicide (even though it was murder - not making fun of the topic at all)
> 
> 1. Hel: (Norse) Daughter of Loki, Ruler of Helheim  
> 2. Weasel. In _Encyclopaedia Britannica_. from https://www.britannica.com/animal/weasel  
> 3. Esquire - Lawyer; DDS - Doctor of Dental Surgery; OPP - Other People's Property (Naughty by Nature); MSG - Monosodium glutamate (Flavor Enhancer)  
> 4. Sealed With A Kiss - first recorded use on a letter was between 1925-1930  
> 5. Arsenic: Atomic Symbol (As) and Number (33)  
> 6. Found in Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone (video game), _released Nov. 2001_
> 
> Movies Quoted/Referenced:
> 
>   1. I Know What You Did Last Summer (1997)
>   2. Mighty Aphrodite (1995)
>   3. Tombstone (1993) - You're no daisy! You're no daisy at all.
> 



	35. On Ordering a Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus enjoys a meeting with Dumbledore and his cronies for the first time in a _long_ time, and Harry makes a deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've said it before and I'll always say it... You Guys Rock! I can't believe how _long_ this story has become. (I literally thought it would be only 40k words or so... silly me.) Hope you enjoy a look into the spiraling of the Order and a little revenge done differently.
> 
>  **Trigger Warnings** at end of chapter.

**\--- Interlude (Part VIII) – Order of the Phoenix Meeting ---**

Severus sat at the end of the table watching the absolute cacophony that the Order of the Phoenix meeting had been reduced to. He had finally been brought into the actual meetings after the murder of Trelawney, probably because Albus was getting more and more perturbed by the events that were unfolding. Either way, Severus was having the time of his life.

Albus, however, did not appear to be having such a good time. The room was filled with yelling by the Order members about the recent deaths of some of their own. Ginny Weasley’s body had been discovered the day prior on the seventh floor in an unused classroom. Apparently dead at her ‘own hand’, due to stress over what she had been tasked to do. It had not been a pretty sight for Filch to come across when he went in to investigate the smell.

Severus snorted to himself. Harry did do a decent job in making these things theatrical. The whole group of Death Eaters was quite enjoying the destruction the boy was mounting on those who had wronged him. Severus knew that Voldemort, especially, was happy with the results. He had to give credit to Scourge. The boy certainly knew his torture methods. He was very... _creative_.

Bringing himself out of his musing, Severus started paying attention when Minerva attempted to console a weeping Molly Weasley. “Oh, Molly, ‘tis a shame the poor girl never brought her problems to me. I am her head of House. I would have done anything to help the child.”

Molly shook her head back and forth, burying it in her hands while she wept. “She wasn’t that type of girl. She would have _never_ done something like that. Even _with_ the note… I just... I... I can’t believe it.” She raised reddened and puffy eyes to look at Albus, “Why did you ask her to try to take on a mission that was _obviously_ too much for a young girl??” 

Severus sighed, if he remembered correctly, which he did… Molly had been the one pushing her daughter into the situation as well. Apparently, the blubbering woman had selective memory regarding her own involvement in her daughter’s death.

“What is going on here, Albus? That is three people dead in less than a month and a half. Three of _our own_! One of them my _DAUGHTER!!_ What are we doing to stop this?? What are we doing??” Molly cried hysterically.

Albus looked at the bawling woman and then out at the rest of the Order in obvious disappointment at how they were reacting to the deaths of their own. He probably thought that they should be celebrating the fact that these witches gave their lives for the light. However, he and Severus were probably the _only_ ones who knew what was really going on. 

Kingsley Shacklebolt had not been able to bring any news from the aurors that helped in the cases of Trelawney or Arabella Figg. He seemed to agree that the most current death of Ginerva Weasley _was_ suicide, as well. In other words, he was no help at all to Albus’ problems.

Alastor Moody was grumbling about ‘too many coincidences lately’ and ‘constant vigilance’ and ‘that Potter boy’. His eye was circling the room, staring at each person sitting at the table, inevitably causing them discomfort. “This is not normal, Albus. There are too many links to the Potter family. Too many links to the past. This is the act of Death Eaters; I just know it. We must be on our guard, now even more than ever. Who knows who could be next.”

Mundungus Fletcher and Elphias Doge nodded in agreement while Sturgis Podmore paled at the thought of being the next to die. Severus rolled his eyes to himself… cowards, the lot of them. Sheep-like cowards who followed the wrong man in the wrong fight. They would learn soon enough.

Arthur Weasley sat silent. Big surprise to absolutely no one there, seeing as he was the most worthless husband and father one could ask for. Backbone of made of cooked pasta, that man had. His son Bill, however, seemed to be the strong male presence in the family. Severus somewhat bemoaned the fact that the child had decided to follow his family in their quest to gain Harry’s fortune and help out Dumbledore. He would have made a decent Death Eater with his knowledge on curse breaking and the dark arts.

Hagrid’s face looked drawn and sad while he lamented the loss of the innocent child who had never hurt even a tiny fly. Severus could barely keep a straight face at that one. These people had all set up his best friend and her family for destruction, whether all of them knew it or not. And they were paying. He was pretty happy that they would all finally be paying with their lives, like Harry’s parents had.

The two children who _were_ allowed in on this meeting were young Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger. Neither of them seemed too sad at the loss of the Weasley chit. They were angrier that she had not followed through with her mission of helping them get ‘Henry’ in line to help out the Order.

“Headmaster, what do we do now? Ginny was the one who was supposed to bring Henry over to the Order and make it so that we were able to get all of the votes and money back. I don’t want to do that part of it. I plan on staying free from oppressive marriage for my whole life, working solely for the light and in the Ministry to protect the wizarding world from dark and evil wizards and creatures,” Hermione objected.

Ron piped in with a complaint as well. “Yeah, sitting with that freak every ‘study session’ is getting lame. He doesn’t ever do anything. He just stays quiet, reads and then leaves. I mean, Gin’s death isn’t really going to change his mind or nothin’. It is all kind of pointless to me. It’s not like he’s going to suddenly realize that he should have been with Gin and come over to our side, now is it? We should just go about it differently. Maybe find some blackmail or something.”

“Ronald Weasley!!! You just lost your sister!!! You should be showing more remorse for her death,” Molly screeched at him.

He ducked his head and mumbled, “Sorry, mum.”

Dumbledore finally piped up, after watching the byplay with his Order members. “Ladies, gentlemen… we _must_ remain calm.” 

Severus felt the push of calm rush over him. Thankfully he had remembered to ward himself accordingly, otherwise he would have succumbed to Albus’ magic like the rest of them. Well, Severus considered as he looked over at Moody who had furrowed his brow in annoyance after the magic had been cast, maybe not _all_ of them.

“I have every bit of faith in the aurors that the cases of Mrs. Figg and Professor Trelawney will be investigated completely, and we will get some answers.” He looked pityingly over at the Weasley parents and shook his head slowly, “And I am so very sorry for your loss, Molly and Arthur. I know you must be hurting very badly. Please do take a day or two to bring your family together to mourn before you feel the need to come back to work for the Order. We will make sure to keep you informed of any new information.”

He paused and looked around the room again, affecting an extra twinkle in his eye. “I will announce to the school this evening at dinner that they may pay their respects to their lost friend through a moment of silence.” Molly started sobbing again. “And we will continue on with the fight for the light. We need to work on swaying those who are gray toward our way of thinking. Use any means you can. Children,” he focused his attention on the current youngest Weasley and the Granger girl, “you focus harder on making sure that Henry knows the true way the wizarding world should be. Point out how horrible dark creatures are. Point out the benefits of following my, I mean the Order’s ways. Be subtle but be firm. We _must_ still maintain focus on bringing those lost votes over to the light!”

Rolling his eyes again, Severus sneered at the sheer grandiose attitude of Dumbledore when dealing, or not dealing as the case may be, with these recent deaths. He had _no_ idea what else was in store for these people, and Severus couldn’t wait to watch.

**\----------**

_She would enjoy that morbid shit._

**\--- November 16 th, 1997 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Gringotts ---**

It was Hogsmeade weekend and Harry decided it was time to swing by Gringotts to see his favorite bloodthirsty goblin. Severus had clued him in to the fact that one Bill Weasley was employed as a curse breaker by the bank. He mostly worked in their Egypt branch, but was back in town due to his sister’s unfortunate death. 

Harry, for one, was quite shaken up by the death of his potential beloved. (According to the teachers and students who saw him.) He had shown the Gryffindors that he studied with just _how_ much he was affected. He was barely eating. (Around them.) Was quieter than usual. (Again, around them.) He even let a tear or two drop when he was told about her death. (He had to employ the tried-and-true method of pinching his thigh through his pocket, right next to his groin… ow!) They believed him to be vulnerable and therefore were attempting to push their agenda even more overtly now. Whatever was said during their little meeting must have stuck because Granger was super fuckin’ annoying lately.

But all of that didn’t matter. Today he was going to see a ~~man~~ goblin about a wizard. (“Remember, kid, you can pretty much pay anyone for anything.”) He walked into the bank and up to one of the tellers. This time around he was much more comfortable in the whole scene, so he just waited to be recognized and give his name. The teller eyed him suspiciously for a moment when Harry asked to see Ragnok, but after a moment he gestured for Harry to follow.

They went into Ragnok’s office where the goblin was pouring over parchments. He grunted and raised a gnarled finger, motioning Harry to sit in the chair in front of his desk while he finished his work. 

Harry pulled out his favorite knife and spun it between his fingers while he waited. Ragnok spared him a brief glance when the weapon first made its appearance, then he ignored him to continue. Harry flipped the knife in the air and spun it around in boredom while Ragnok finished up. Finally, he pushed the stack of paperwork to one side and bared his sharpened teeth at Harry in a horrible semblance of a smile.

“Mr. Potter, to what does Gringotts owe the pleasure of your presence today?” He snarled. However, it was a _polite_ snarl, in Harry’s opinion.

“Well, Ragnok,” Harry started, leaning back in his seat and crossing one ankle over his knee. He tapped the blade of his knife on his boot while he looked over the desk at the goblin. “I’m in need of a favor.”

Ragnok’s eyes narrowed, “We are not in the habit of doing _favors_ for wizards.”

Harry smirked, “Not even for a fruit basket?”

Curling his lip even more in disgust, Ragnok shook his head, “What is this nonsense? Get to the point, wizard, you are wasting both our time.”

Harry put his foot back down on the ground and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “Like I said… I need a favor. Can you do it?”

Ragnok leaned back in his chair and tented his clawed fingers in front of his face. “That depends, young Potter, what is the favor? And what will you do for me?”

Harry snorted and sat up, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. “Figures… won’t accept the fruit basket, but definitely want something in return. Well, no worries, we’ll figure something out. Let me tell you what I need first. You have someone who works for you… someone that I don’t particularly think needs to be breathing anymore. I would kill him myself, but I’m racking up a decent body count pretty quickly, and I need to choose my moves carefully. Now, if he were to have an _accident_ at his place of work, well that wouldn’t be _my_ fault would it?”

“Hnnn,” Ragnok grumbled, pondering what Harry had requested of him. “If we do this, the bank will be required to pay out the entirety of the employee’s contract as a death benefit to the family. That could mean anywhere from two to five years of pay. We are _not_ in the business of losing money here at Gringotts. So, my first inclination is to deny your request.”

Scrunching up his nose in frustration, Harry sighed. “Can you tell me how much it will be to buy out the contract of William ‘Bill’ Arthur Weasley? He, I believe, is one of your curse breakers.”

Ragnok’s eyes narrowed slightly, “He is not a goblin; however, he is well versed in his craft. A loss of a curse breaker of that caliber, no matter what amount of time is left on his contract, would be a major hit to Gringotts.” 

He pulled out a drawer and lifted out an ancient looking leather-bound book, larger than his head. He flipped through the pages, running his gnarled finger down each one until he found what he was looking for. “Weasley, William Arthur. Male wizard, 27 years old on the 29th of this month. Currently unmarried. Tasked to the Egyptian branch of Gringotts. Home on bereavement leave.” 

Ragnok paused here and shot a pointed look at Harry who sent an innocent one right back at him. “Time left on contract: 2 years, 3 months, 8 days. Mr. Weasley, even though he _is_ a wizard, falls into our 75th percentile of pay for curse breakers, earning 10,850g per year as salary. He signed on with a five-year contract, leaving him with 23,742g 1s 26k for a contract payout. Not to mention the loss of a decent employee, albeit a wizard. I would value the loss of his employment at 50,000g while Gringotts spends its resources trying to find a replacement.”

Harry brought his knife up to his lips and tapped the tip against them in thought. “So, we’re looking at a total of 73,742g 1s and 26k for this _‘accident’_ to take place?”

Snorting, Ragnok shook his head. “No, young wizard. That is only for the _loss_. That does not include any _accident_ that may occur. For that, well, our rates go on a sliding scale. How injured do you need this wizard, did you say?”

“The kind of injured where he stops breathing forever. That kind,” Harry smirked. “I need it to look… natural. Something that he would normally be doing, but that we could ensure he would never come away from. Basically, I just need you to help me squash an annoyance.”

Ragnok nodded and flipped further toward the back of the book, grumbling under his breath, “Accidental curse magic… dismemberment by rune magic… evil entities summoned… ah! Here we go. I have just the thing. There is a cave we have been working on that is surrounded by very difficult curses. It is well-known throughout Gringotts curse breakers, and a point of pride for them to be put on the case. I will offer it to Mr. Weasley and ensure that a couple goblin curse breakers go with to ‘help things along’, so to speak. I will only charge 100,000g for the actual ‘accident’ and 5,000g for each of the goblins tasked for the mission.” 

He wrote some figures down on his parchment and looked back up at Harry, “That brings our total for this business deal to 183,742g 1s and 26k. However, since you are such a valued customer, I will be willing to give you a discount and only charge 183,742g, waiving the sickles and knuts.”

Harry chuckled at the greedy little goblin, thankful that murder was just a business venture to them and not something personal or ‘evil’. “You know what, Ragnok, I like you, and I appreciate the gesture of you shaving off those extra sickles and knuts. So, here’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna front you 225,000g out of my vault. That will cover the ‘accident’, the contract, the extra work I know you’ll have to do, and anything else that comes along. It will also help you remember that I’m one of the good ones, I hope.”

Raising his brows at the sheer number of extra galleons that Harry was offering, Ragnok gave a gruff cough. “Well, young Mr. Potter. It seems that we have a deal. I will be more than willing to make more _deals_ of this caliber, if you need them in the future.”

“See?” Harry asked, leaning back in the chair, stretching his arms open and winking at the grumpy goblin. “ _Much_ better than a fruit basket.”

**\----------**

**\--- November 27 th, 1997 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Hogwarts, Dinner in the Great Hall ---**

** TRAGEDY STRIKES THE WEASLEY FAMILY AGAIN! TWICE IN ONE MONTH! FAMILY DEVISTATED!!**  
** Eldest Son Dead in Accident at Cave of Crystals Gem Cave in Chihuahua, Mexico **  
**_Dark Curse Magic Suspected – Gringotts Takes No Blame for Death_ **

_**T** he eldest Weasley boy, William ‘Bill’ Arthur Weasley, was accidentally exploded during a routine de-cursing of a gem cave for Gringotts. When the smoke and ash finally cleared from the explosion, the pieces of the body were not large enough to fit together for a proper funeral._

_**T** his reporter has discovered that the bank sent him to Chihuahua, Mexico, to deal with a slew of dark curses that had been discovered around the cave. They were assumed to be placed there to deter those who wanted to enter the cave to mine its riches. Gringotts director, Ragnok, has been quoted as saying, “He worked for the bank. He knew the risks. Now he is dead before he finished the job, and we will have to send others to finish up what he left undone. It is very inconvenient for us.”_

_**T** he Weasley family has not been able to comment on the most recent loss in their family, however Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, friend of the family, has been quoted as saying, “It is a terrible loss to both the family and light wizards throughout Britain. He will be missed by all who knew him. Our hearts go out to the family during this trying time."_

_**O** ur readers will remember that the youngest Weasley child, Ginerva ‘Ginny’ Molly Weasley, took her own life just over two weeks ago, under questionable circumstances. (See pg. 3 for summary on Ginny Weasley suicide.) We have to wonder if this family is cursed, or if it is merely a string of bad luck hitting them. (Article cont. pg. 5)_

Harry ducked his head as he read the article, so no one would be able to see his smile. Totally worth the 225,000g he had ‘donated’ to Ragnok’s cause. And, he had a feeling that if he needed to get their aid again, they would be more than happy to help. He was, after all, one of their wealthier patrons. He had to admit they did beautiful work, too. No one would ever think to link this death to him. Two Weasleys down… three to go. What a good month this was turning out to be. He grinned as he pushed his dinner aside and grabbed a slice of treacle tart. This news was worthy of a small celebration.

Luna plopped down next to Harry at the Slytherin table, while he was reading the paper and eating his dessert. She glanced at the headline and shook her head. “The Quibbler only gave his death two paragraphs. Apparently, the Daily Prophet had a much more sensational backstory to cover on our favorite rodents. Daddy just got bored and couldn’t find enough interesting things to print about them.” 

She sighed a little, in apparent disappointment, and leaned on his shoulder. Sending him an impish smile, she sneaked a tiny forkful of his treacle tart before he could bat her hand away. She hummed under her breath and sang quietly to him,

_“ **H** ow do you think they’ll get along,_  
_**W** ith their brother dead and gone?_  
_**S** eems like just yesterday,_  
_**T** he family’s hearts held no dismay._  
_**N** ow their brother’s left this place,_  
_**N** e’er again to see his face._  
_**T** he vermin’s plan is quite a bust,_  
_**A** Weasel explodes to dust.”_

Harry cackled uncontrollably at her song, burying his face in her hair to hide his laughter. “You’ve been the light of my life the entire time I’ve lived in this ridiculous place, Moon. Never, ever change,” he whispered to her.

Her shoulders shook lightly with laughter as she patted his hand and murmured, “Poetry soothes the savage Scourge, didn’t you know?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warnings:** mention of suicide (remember, it was murder - not making fun or light of the issue), mention of exploded body.


	36. On Petrified Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville is distressed. Ron and Hermione are jerks. Harry visits Ragnok for some business (while going commando?) and talks to a greenhouse. Then Luna... listens to R.E.M.?? What even _is_ this chapter???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the couple day delay. Work got me down, yo. But, I hope y'all are having a great day and enjoy this long chapter. (It _really_ ran away with itself lol.) 💜 
> 
> **Trigger Warnings** at the end of the chapter.

**\--- Interlude (Part IX - First Half) – Headmaster’s Office ---**

“You have not gotten nearly far enough with your training, Mr. Longbottom,” Dumbledore said disappointedly while gazing at the boy over his half-moon glasses. Behind Neville, Hermione and Ron smirked behind their hands. They always felt superior when Neville got in trouble for not performing well enough. They knew that at least _they_ were working the hardest in the fight against Voldemort and the dark.

“Mr. Longbottom?” Dumbledore prompted.

“Yes, sir. I will try harder. It is just hard sometimes when I get hurt and don’t have enough time to recover,” Neville almost whispered into the room.

“Ah, my boy,” Dumbledore said, shaking his head, “Voldemort will not give you time to recover either. You must train to push through it. I believe you understand, dear boy, and you can take your leave. If you are still feeling the strain of your training from earlier today, I suggest you meditate on that in your common room this evening. You are dismissed, Mr. Longbottom.”

Ron and Hermione moved to the side to allow him to pass. He walked with hunched shoulders out the door and down the stairs. When he was completely out of the room, Dumbledore turned to the two Gryffindors left.

“And you two… why is Ms. Lovegood more involved with Mr. Castiglione than you are? Although she is not necessarily dark, she has the influence of her father and that ridiculous paper he runs. She and he have been getting close, too close. I would rather he spend more time with you, Ms. Granger. Use whatever means you have to. With the loss of your sister, Mr. Weasley, there is a void that you also can fill. You _must_ turn him away from outside influences. Perhaps we can… suggest to Ms. Lovegood that she should focus her attention elsewhere. There were some students in her house earlier this year that were taking her attention away from him. Perhaps we might follow in their footsteps.” 

He peered over at Hermione and tented his fingers in front of his face. “You came from the muggle world, Ms. Granger. I expect you to find common ground. _Help_ him. Guide him. _We should have been closer to having him on our side by now!_ ”

Both Ron and Hermione jerked slightly back in shock when their esteemed Headmaster raised his voice at them. 

“Yes, sir,” Hermione said subduedly. “We will do our best sir.”

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes at both of them. “Good. Remember, children, this is for the greater good.”

**\--- Interlude (Part IX – Second Half) - Hogwarts Hallway, Hogsmeade Weekend ---**

“Hey there, Loony,” Ron jeered at Luna as she skipped down a deserted hallway toward the Slytherin dungeons. “Where are you going? Bet you’re going to find Castiglione and pester him some more, aren’t you? Merlin, what a loon.”

Luna’s tipped her head to the side in question as Hermione grabbed her wand out of her hands. “What do you want?” She asked them airily, furrowing her brow slightly at Hermione. “And why did you take my wand?”

Hermione sneered at her, “You won’t need it where you’re going.”

Ron grinned menacingly while backing her up against the wall, “Yeah, Loony, you don’t need a wand at all. We’ll take real good care of you." He laughed in her face and looked at Hermione, "Look at Loony. She's proper scared. None of her bloody Nargles gonna save her now." He leaned in to whisper harshly in Luna's ear, "In fact, after this, I bet you’ll remember to stay far away from us _and_ from Castiglione. He doesn’t like you. He told us. You’re clingy, ditzy, dizzy and…” he stopped to shove one of her shoulders, “loony.”

Luna’s eyes darted between the two Gryffindors, trying to run through the best way to get out of this situation. There was no one around. No one could hear her this far down near the dungeons, where she and Scourge usually met up. “You don’t want to do this. Nargles always pay for their deeds. Wrackspurts will find out what you have done and then tell a vengeful Scourge.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “What are you even talking about? Merlin! Your stupid animals don’t exist! They’re not in any of my books.” She pushed Luna into the wall, making Luna’s head hit the brick. “Look, we’re only going to say this once. Stay… away… from… Henry. He doesn’t want you. He doesn’t like you. He _hates_ you. He think’s your ideas are stupid. He thinks _you’re_ stupid!”

Ron glanced up the hallway when he heard a noise then nudged Hermione. “Hey ‘Mione, we’ve got to finish this up quick. The Headmaster wants this taken care of without anyone hearing.”

Hermione glared at him, “Merlin Ron! Shut up! She wasn’t supposed to hear that part!” She looked at Luna, who was trying to inch out of where they had blocked her in. “Ah ah ah, Loony, that just won’t do.” She pointed her wand at Luna’s face and whispered, “ _Petrificus totalus_.”

\----------

_“Poetry soothes the savage Scourge, didn’t you know?”_

**\--- December 13 th, 1997 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Gringotts ---**

“Mr. Potter, how lucrative of you to visit us again,” Ragnok said when he motioned for Harry to join him in his office and sit. 

Harry had decided to swing into Gringotts during Hogsmeade weekend to discuss some of the Order of the Phoenix members that Severus had named for him. He had Tom, Sirius and Remus give him the lowdown on who had actually had a hand in his whole situation. He realized that not _all_ of the members of the Order were as bad as Dumbledore. Some of them were just followers. He didn’t feel the need to kill all the sheep just because the shepherd was an evil asshole who deserved to die hanging from his thumbs, with his Achilles tendons cut, gunshots at his knees, and his femoral artery punctured so that he bled out slowly. Not that he had thought about this much.

No, he wanted them to pay in some way, but they didn’t need to pay with their lives. He’d let ‘em live. Instead, he’d just take away a little bit of their… comfort.

“Well, Ragnok, my good goblin friend... I can call you friend now, can’t I? I mean, we’ve been through _so much_ together. I think that anyone who plots an ‘accident’ together should be able to call each other friend. And, as Garth says, I like to have friends in low places,” Harry smirked at the goblin.

Ragnok raised one eyebrow and scowled at Harry. “We do not have _friends_ , Mr. Potter. However, if you would like, we can call each other acquaintances who will probably not end up killing each other.”

Harry snorted and lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Works for me. I like you. I’d probably kill you last anyway.”

Baring his teeth in a snarling smile, Ragnok gave him a nod. “More wizards should be like you, Mr. Potter. Many are too squeamish regarding the ways of the warrior. Now, what business have you brought forth today?"

Harry reached in his pocket and withdrew a list, which he handed over to Ragnok. The goblin took it with a sneer, probably because it was on lined paper from a spiral bound notebook. The wizarding world could _really_ stand to update their writing implements. Parchments and quills are just _so_ last century.

Ragnok opened the paper and read over the list, nodding his head in thought as he read each name:

  1. _Kingsley Shacklebolt_ – Auror, Working Undercover in Ministry
  2. _Minerva McGonagall_ \- Professor at Hogwarts, seems to be a sheep, not directly involved in theft but didn’t try to stop Dumblefuck
  3. _Emmeline Vance_ – Member, not much known except she follows blindly
  4. _Alastor Moody_ \- Retired (disabled?) auror, might be more involved than others... might kill, but right now just watch
  5. _Nymphadora Tonks_ – Auror, family traitor but not really worth the time to kill. Maybe both her vaults and her mom’s.
  6. _Elphias Doge_ – Jurist, Potential Stalker
  7. _Mundungus Fletcher_ – Petty Criminal & Coward
  8. _Sturgis Podmore_ – General Asshole, Broke into Department of Mysteries
  9. _Arthur Weasley_ – Not sure on this one yet, might die, might just leave miserable and alone to deal with the consequences of his family’s actions… discuss



“So,” Harry said, leaning forward in his chair, “I figure each one of those people has a vault, or few, in your bank. And they may, or may not, be the most upstanding individuals. I’ve found some shit on some of them. However, a couple of them just seem like ignorant assholes who don’t really have anything else going against them. Now, you and the bank have control over the finances of _all_ the wizards and witches.” 

He tapped his fingers on his chin and sent Ragnok an innocent look. “If, let’s just say _hypothetically_ , these individuals were to have, oh, I don’t know, something ‘happen’ to their money… whether it gets cut off for a while due to a bank freeze on their vault, it accidentally disappears due to paperwork discovering that the families wanted to donate the entirety, or at least most, of their fortune to charity, or… it could even be you saying that they have done wrong and fining them for whatever ‘misdeeds’ you come up with. Either way, I would most appreciate it if they were hit where it hurt. In their pocketbooks. These assholes are only able to fund this Order because they have disposable money. If I take that money away, well, you get the idea.”

“Hnnn,” Ragnok grumbled under his breath. He tapped a claw on his desk and peered at Harry for a long moment. “What does ‘discuss’ mean on this last entry? Mr. Arthur Weasley?”

Harry let out a long sigh. Leaning his head back against the chair, he stared at the ceiling of Ragnok’s office. He pursed his lips for a moment, then dropped his gaze to meet Ragnok’s. “Well, from what I’ve heard from my _very reliable_ sources, the man is merely a shell of a human. No backbone. No say in what goes on in his family’s lives. Severus swears that the mother, Molly, is the one who wears the figurative ‘pants’ in the family. And, I mean American pants… not British. I’m pretty sure they both wear underwear…”

Ragnok narrowed his eyes while clearing his throat, “Get to the point, Mr. Potter. I do not care about the undergarments of wizards, British _or_ American.”

Barking out a laugh, Harry gifted Ragnok with an impish grin. “Don’t worry, Ragnok, I usually go commando anyway.” Harry sent him a quick wink, then regained a bit of levity. “But, back to the issue at hand. I’m just not sure I want to kill him as well. I think that he, himself, is probably a bit of a victim in all of this. And I kill people, believe me. But I don’t kill indiscriminately. I’m not one to kill victims of other assholes. I’m the one to kill and hurt assholes who are _actually_ evil. Now, don't get me wrong, I don’t want to give him a free pass, or anything. I just think, of all of the people in that family who were stealing from me, he was probably the least _involved_. Shit, he might not have even really known about it, with the way Severus was talkin'.”

Ragnok let out a gravely ‘harumph’, before shaking his head and saying, “Humans with their stupid feelings.” He tented his clawed fingers in front of his hooked nose and scrutinized Harry. “We have had good business dealings so far, young wizard. I consider it to be beneficial, both for myself and Gringotts, to continue our business relationship. With that in mind, I _could_ find it in my records that these individuals had been utilizing ‘creative’ accounting. The bank could then _potentially_ seize their assets until restitution was made, or until the bank discovered the reason behind the accounting issue.”

Harry lifted one side of his mouth in a vindictive smile, “However long that may take…”

“Hnnn, these things do take… _time_ , Mr. Potter. We must not rush finances. It might take days, weeks, months, even _years_ before Gringotts is able to ensure that all financial issues have been... _rectified_ ,” Ragnok said shrewdly.

Chuckling a little, Harry nodded. “That sounds like a decent plan to me. No matter what anyone else says, you're my favorite goblin. Well, as soon as you can find the time to put this little plan in motion, I would appreciate it, Ragnok.” Harry went to rise from his chair but was stopped by the goblin banker clearing his throat.

“Mr. Potter,” he said craftily, “this is not a _favor_.”

“Ah, Ragnok, my favorite greedy goblin. Did I forget?” He stopped, stood, and patted down his robe, as if looking for something. Shaking his head ruefully, he bemoaned, “I meant to bring a fruit basket this time, I truly did.” He sighed and smacked himself lightly on the head. "A pro never forgets his good fruits."

Ragnok’s eyes narrowed into a glare, and Harry quickly pressed on, “Alas, I’m sure you had something different in mind as payment. I was informed by Severus Snape, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin, that the Order of the Phoenix has been using my parent’s old house as a meeting place. Now, besides the fact that they were all stealing from me, it fuckin’ pisses me off that they’re plotting my fuckin’ demise in my dead family’s home. So, seeing as I still own it, and will probably _never_ want to live there, how’s about I let you ‘foreclose’ on it? You kick everyone out. Give anything that looks like it might be ‘sentimental’ to those who knew my parents. Other than that, it’s yours. How’s that sound?”

Leaning back in his desk chair, Ragnok’s lips thinned in thought. He gave Harry a small nod and said, “It sounds like we have yet another deal, Mr. Potter.”

Harry gave the goblin a deep bow, complete with a flourish of his hand. “As always, Ragnok, it has been a _true pleasure_ doing business with you. I wish you the best of luck on your vicious plans and hope you get all the money you could ever want.”

Ragnok snorted, “I wish you violent travels, young wizard. I assume you can see yourself out.”

“Yep! See ya!” Harry smiled as he exited the office. He couldn’t _wait_ to tell Moonbeam all about his newest business venture. She’d be so proud of his fiscal ingenuity.

**\----------**

**\--- December 13 th, 1997 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Hogwarts ---**

Harry walked through the gates of Hogwarts, happy with the way that his whole revenge plot was going. The list was dwindling down. Professor Trelawney? Check. Arabella Figg? Check. A couple of rodents? Check, check. Order Members that aren’t going to be killed? Check, check, checkity, check. Yes, he was pretty satisfied with all his hard work. And nothing seemed to be going bad so far. 

Dumblefuck seemed lost, as usual, and his sheep seemed to be circling deeper and deeper into a panicked state. Severus kept him up to date on the antics of the Order and of the Headmaster. He was very happy with how it was all affecting the old asshole. 

Tom and Harry had been keeping in touch during the fall. Their letters were filled with Wizengamot news, how Tom was advancing his Death Eaters through the Ministry, and anecdotes of Nagini’s musings. Harry wrote mostly of Dumbledore’s fuckin’ awful robes, the ways he planned on working on his list (spelled to only be read by Tom) and, of course, of his dreams of eviscerating the man who caused both of them so many problems. It was nice to have a malicious pen pal.

Harry began to look around the grounds for Luna. First, he checked by the lake to see if she had decided to randomly enjoy the winter air for a while. Probably to commune with some sort of animal that he couldn’t see. She wasn’t there, however, but he wasn’t too worried. 

He continued into the school, checking their usual haunts. He looked in the Great Hall, the library, the dungeons. He asked Sev if he had seen Luna. He asked every student he came in contact with if they had seen her. Each one said no. Theo and pretty boy started to help him look, after he explained that no one had seen or heard from Luna since that morning, after he went to Hogsmeade. But they couldn’t find her anywhere.

At this point, Harry was beginning to lose his shit a little bit.

**\----------**

_(Scourge) 16:28_

> fukn freakn out lost moon 

_(Scourge) 16:28_

> been lookn 4 2hrs 

_(Miyagi) 16:30_

> no ones seen her? 

_(Scourge) 16:31_

> askd evry1 ive seen no 1 has seen her

_(Miyagi) 16:32_

> think your assholes did something?

_(Scourge) 16:33_

> fuk i havnt seen them 2day 

_(Miyagi) 16:34_

> id check it out kid 

_(Miyagi) 16:34_

> situation sounds off 

_(Scourge) 16:35_

> ill kill em both 

_(Miyagi) 16:36_

> find your girl first 

_(Scourge) 16:37_

> kk gtg fnd sme asshls n hopfully moon

_(Scourge) 16:38_

> ill updte whn i can 

_(Miyagi) 16:39_

> stay safe n be smart kid 

_(Scourge) 16:39_

> kk

**\----------**

He never ran into Ron or Hermione, because it was Neville who eventually helped them in their search. He didn’t know where Luna was, but he said that Ron and Hermione were being particularly mean to her lately. He said that they sometimes used the back part of greenhouse number 7 when they were ‘practicing’ their fighting ~~on~~ with Neville. He suggested that the boys might look there for Luna, since they hadn’t been able to find her anywhere else.

Harry nodded and took off for the greenhouses without saying anything else to Neville. He left Theo and pretty boy there to deal with the polite little details of ‘thank you for helping us find our friend’ and whatnot. (Which would probably be handled by Theo and not pretty boy. The stuck up brat wouldn’t lower himself to thank a Gryffindor plebeian any day of the week, no matter how helpful they had been.)

He reached the greenhouse in record time, calling out Luna’s name as he walked through the doors. It was Sunday. The greenhouse was currently empty, and it wouldn’t be used until Tuesday, for the first and second years classes. Harry searched up and down the rows, under the tables of plants, but he didn’t see anything. He stopped in the middle of the greenhouse and dropped his head, defeated.

As he stood there, he felt a tingling come from the walls of the greenhouse. It felt like the magic of the school seeping out to greet him. He walked over and put his hand on the wall, then leaned his head against it. 

_Young one, you are searching?_

Harry reared his head back and jerked his hand away from the wall in shock. He looked suspiciously around for who had just spoken to him. He tentatively whispered, “Erm, hello? I’m lookin’ for my friend? Luna Lovegood? Is she around here, do you know?”

_You need to search the grounds near the forest._  
_You will find your friend there._

“Uh, thanks, odd, disembodied voice.” He looked around again, trying to see if someone had decided to show their face, but no one had. “Uh, well, I’m gonna go get her now. Thanks again!”

_You’re welcome, young one._  
_I look after my own._

“Riiiggght, okay. Uh, welp, I’m out. This is too bizarre. You’ve been awesome, though. I hope we can chat again sometime when I have more time, but I gotta get Luna now,” Harry said in a rushed tone, as he started to run out of the greenhouse. “Seriously, fuckin’ thanks,” he yelled over his shoulder. He turned back and sprinted toward the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

**\----------**

She was bound to a tree, facing into the forest, and had obviously been petrified. The scene looked a lot like the one he had set up with Professor Trelawney before Harry sicced the wolves on her. But this was his fuckin' precious Moonbeam. Nobody puts Moonbeam on a tree in the forest. Nobody. He was pissed. He was angry. To put it mildly… he was _livid_. 

Her eyes were open in fear, and her hair was filthy with twigs and dirt from the forest. Harry could tell that someone had hurt her badly before they had stuck her there. Her usually clean and orderly robes were torn and wrinkled. Her cork necklace had been ripped from her neck and the corks had fallen around her feet. Her shoes were gone (again), and he could see tear tracks that had dried on her face.

He immediately cast _reparifors_ as he stood in front of her, ready to catch her as she fell. She collapsed into his arms and immediately curled into his shoulder, seeking protection. He held on tightly, and rocked her as she cried. He couldn’t understand what she was saying through her tears, so he just rubbed her back and kissed her temple. He told her that he was there, he was there, he would make everything better.

By the time she calmed down enough to tell her story, Harry had planned at least fifty different ways to kill the two who had done this to her. He hated that she had been hurt. He hated that anyone had even touched a hair on her head because she was friends with him. He’d kill ‘em. He’d fuckin’ kill ‘em all. 

“I’m so sorry, Scourge,” Luna sobbed into his neck, as she held onto him. “I told them about you. I didn’t mean to. I am so, so sorry.”

“Shh, shh, Moonbeam, it’s fine. It will all be fine,” Harry whispered to her as he continued to rock her. He slowly guided her to sit down with him. He sat cross legged on the ground, with her in his lap. “What did you tell them?”

Luna sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I t..told them that th…the Wrackspurts would find them out and y..you would get vengeance,” she cried.

“Ah huh, did you say my name?” He asked quietly. Curious, but not judgmental.

She leaned back and gave him a confused look, “Of course I did… that’s why I’m so sorry. I told them Scourge was going to get them and all of the Nargles that were helping them out! Oh, I have gone and ruined _everything!_ They'll know your list!”

Harry quirked a small smile at her, “So, they know the name Scourge, but not my… uh… human name? I guess we could call it that.”

Luna wrinkled her nose and nodded her head, dirty blond hair flopping around her face. “Yes, silly, I gave them your _real_ name, not your fake ones. That’s why I feel so bad.” Her head dropped and her lips formed a small pout, while silent tears still fell from her eyes.

Wrapping her even tighter, Harry tucked her head under his chin. “Luna-beam. You’re safe. That’s all that matters. That's all I care about. I’m gonna fix everything. I don’t care that they know my name. They were gonna learn it real soon anyway. Now they’ll just meet Scourge sooner than they were gonna before. Don't worry your pretty little Moonbeam head about it.” 

He leaned back and tipped up her face, so that her silver blue eyes met his green. Using his thumb, he wiped the tears from her cheeks, but they kept slowly falling. He absolutely hated that he couldn’t stop her tears. He really wished that he didn’t suck so bad at all this feelings shit. He pleaded with her, “You need to not be sad right now. What will make you happy? Tell me and I’ll do it. _Anything_.”

She just shook her head slightly and curled back into his chest, fiddling with the bottom of her robe.

“Hey! What if I sing? I could sing to you. You sing to me all the fuckin' time. My voice is shit, so you don’t get to make fun,” he said as he wagged a finger at her in jest. “But it might cheer you up some, yeah? I remember some songs from when I was younger with Frank…

_“ **W** hen your day is long_  
_**A** nd the night, the night is yours alone_  
_**W** hen you're sure you've had enough_  
_**O** f this life, well hang on_

_**D** on't let yourself go_  
_**'C** ause everybody cries_  
_**E** verybody hurts sometimes_

_**S** ometimes everything is wrong_  
_**N** ow it's time to sing along_

_**W** hen your day is night alone _  
_**I** f you feel like letting go_  
_**I** f you think you've had too much_  
_**O** f this life, well hang on_

_**'C** ause everybody hurts_  
_**T** ake comfort in your friends_  
_**E** verybody hurts... sometimes”_ (1)

“That wasn’t horrible at all, Scourge. Thank you.” She tried her best to give him a smile with her reddened puffy eyes and dirt streaked face. But it didn’t work out so well, since it was all wobbly. “I’ll be fine. I’ll just stay away from the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks who are out to get me. They’re being particularly cruel right now.”

“That’s not enough. You're still not smiling like my Moonbeam usually does,” Harry said, tapping his fingers lightly on her palm to stop her fidgeting. “Hey! I know… You should spend Christmas with me ‘n Frank!! Would that make you happy?”

Luna turned her face to look at his, and fuckin’ _beamed_.

Harry figured the ass kicking that he would get from Frank for not asking permission about this was worth it, just to see that smile again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warnings:** bullying, kidnapping, sappy R.E.M. lyrics.
> 
> Movies/Songs Quoted/Referenced:
> 
>   1. "Everybody Hurts" (Song Quoted - R.E.M., 1992) 
>   2. "Friends in Low Places" (Song - Garth Brooks, 1990)
>   3. Magic (1978)
>   4. Dirty Dancing (1987)
> 



	37. On a Very Merry Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gives Luna her Christmas present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please... **Trigger Warnings/Explanation** at the end of the chapter, y'all. This one's a _doozy_. All I'm sayin' about this chapter is that Harry plays an _interesting_ game of poker. Enjoy! 💜

_Harry figured the ass kicking that he would get from Frank for not asking permission about this was worth it, just to see that smile again._

**\--- December 13 th, 1997 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

_(Scourge) 22:12_

> heyyy gud news

_(Miyagi) 22:14_

> you find her? 

_(Scourge) 22:14_

> ya shes ok now 

_(Miyagi) 22:16_

> good you fuck em up? 

_(Scourge) 22:21_

> not yet lol

_(Scourge) 22:22_

> so heeyyyy cn i brng a frnd 4 xmas 

_(Miyagi) 22:23_

> what? where? not our place

_(Scourge) 22:25_

> uh ya? 

_(Miyagi) 22:26_

> ah jesus fuck kid 

_(Miyagi) 22:26_

> what the fuck did you promise her 

_(Scourge) 22:28_

> she culd stay w/ us?

_(Scourge) 22:29_

> ʘ‿ʘ 

_(Miyagi) 22:31_

> in our house?

_(Scourge) 22:31_

> um ya?

_(Miyagi) 22:32_

> in our -safe- house? 

_(Scourge) 22:35_

> pleeeeze 

_(Miyagi) 22:36_

> sigh it ok w/ her dad?

_(Scourge) 22:37_

> probably

_(Miyagi) 22:39_

> fine but you keep her safe while shes here

_(Scourge) 22:41_

> frank u da best!!!!!!!!!

_(Miyagi) 22:43_

> go to bed kid

**\----------**

**\--- December 19 th \- 24th, 1997 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- London ---**

The Christmas break from school had started wonderfully. Luna’s dad had agreed to let her stay with Harry, after a bit of negotiation. Frank even _wrote Xenophilius Lovegood an owl_. (Harry almost shit himself when he learned that Frank had used fuckin’ parchment and everything. He used a Bic, but still!!! Parchment!!!) Apparently Xenophilius wanted to search South America for Bowtruckles and Thunderbirds, so he was fine with Luna staying back with them in London. Luna was a little disappointed at missing the trip with her father, but she was happy to be staying with Harry and Frank for the duration of the holiday.

They had plans to visit Malfoy Manor for New Year’s Eve. However, until then, they were free to mess around in London and just be normal. Harry was pretty happy to take a little break from his massive revenge plot. He, like Luna, was a little bummed that he wasn’t doing his traditional holiday plans. Of course, his normal plans were more along the lines of going off and destroying things with Frank. Hanging out with his best friend was worth the slight change of plans, though.

Besides, she hadn’t stopped fuckin’ smiling since they left Hogwarts. He hadn’t realized how much the two assholes had been stressing her out. He was going to need to take care of that… soon.

**\----------**

Wade _LOVED_ Luna. He thought she was the most wonderfully interesting person he had ever held a conversation with. Harry wondered if either of them actually even existed in this world, or if they were maybe just characters in some weird play in their own minds. He enjoyed hanging out with both of them individually… so both of them together just meant twice the crazy and twice the fun.

_“Mr. Pool, you have such an aura of dark around you. I would have thought that red would be your color, but you are more inclined to have black surround you. Odd. Is it because you speak to the creator of this world who kills you all the time? I mostly speak with the Moon Frogs. They tell me you are one who understands that there are other forces that influence us, that write out our lives... are you?” Luna asked Wade, while tilting her head to the side and sending him one of her thousand-yard gazes._

_Wade snorted, “First of all... you know about the author??? Or actually, wait, let’s just focus one hot second on the fact that you called me Mr. Pool!” He looked at her, at the reader, then back at her, “I’ve never been called that. I think the reader just snorted chocolate milk through their nose.”_

_Luna sent him her dreamy, knowing smile. “Oh, I doubt it, Mr. Pool. You should ask before you assume. They are apparently allergic to milk. It is probably some sort of juice they are drinking.”_

_Bringing his hand up to scratch the top of his masked head, he mused, “Huh, allergic?”_

__

__

_He looked out at the reader, “Wow, that’s fuckin’ shitty, dude. Almond and soy milk suck. Well, unless they are in a chai tea latte. Oh! I love a decent chai tea. I should get one of those. Are you, like, full-on lactose intolerant? Or, can you have cheese? I’d literally die if I couldn’t have cheese. Of course, getting the shits would be worth it for some good melty nachos. MMMmmmm nachos!” He turned to look at Luna and Harry. “Mexican food! Let’s go!”_

**\----------**

Logan came by the second day of the holiday, to officially meet Luna and hang out with Frank. Harry figured he probably just wanted to be away from the X-Guys and drink some beer with someone who didn’t want to fill all the quiet with noise. Frank was good at quiet. 

Luna was surprisingly good at quiet too.

_Harry and Frank walked into the living room and stopped abruptly at the picture that met them. Luna sat on the floor in front of Logan, who had a beer in one hand and his other hand held out to her. She was holding one finger cautiously, humming lowly under her breath. Next to her on the ground was a bottle of pink glitter nail polish. (Harry could only assume that Wade was the reason she was able to find the bottle at their house.) She stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth as she concentrated on painting Logan’s nail._

_Logan looked up from where he was watching the game on TV, and raised a brow in their direction. With his deadpan stare, he dared them to say anything. Frank grunted in disbelief and shook his head. He grabbed a cold beer and sat down in the old recliner next to the couch, started watching TV, and ignored the whole situation._

_Harry’s mouth was opened slightly in shock, but he also wisely chose to say nothing. There wasn’t an uncomfortable silence with all of them sitting quietly in the room. He didn’t know why it was necessary to yak about bullshit in order to be comfortable anyway._

_Besides, if sitting there quietly while Luna gave Logan a manicure made her happy, he was all for it. And, if Logan allowed it, who was he to say anything?_

**\----------**

Frank and Luna… well, they certainly were different from each other. It became quite evident one afternoon when she came upon him organizing his gun safe.

_“Ooohh, Mr. Punisher, sir, that one is so pretty!” Luna exclaimed, pointing at a Barrett M82 long range sniper rifle. She reached out to touch it, but Frank quickly pushed her hand to the side._

_“Don’t touch the guns.”_

_She squinted at his stern face and poked him lightly in the chest. “We should make them even prettier! I think Scourge would like a unicorn and glitter on his. You would probably do best with,” she tilted her head to the side and hummed in thought for a moment, “purple? Maybe we could find a Fwooper to give us some feathers to stick on there. You would definitely blend in to the environment then. Of course you might need to add in a little bit of shed Pygmy Niffler fur. Yes, that would make you almost invisible when you are hunting down the elflike Erklings.”_

_Frank actually broke his normal impassive, stern face then. His jaw was slightly slackened as he listened to Luna explain the need to ‘bedazzle’ his weapons. Harry spent the entire conversation trying not to collapse on the floor in laughter. He snapped a quick picture of Frank’s face and sent it off to Wade and Logan. They would appreciate it._

**\----------**

Harry loved having Luna in London to hang out with. They went to movies. Wade sometimes tagged along. (“Make sure you're leaving room for Jesus between you two!!!”) 

They ate at crappy restaurants. Luna discovered that pizza was her new favorite obsession. Harry almost broke up their friendship over her desire to put pineapple, anchovies, tomato ketchup _and_ peanut butter on hers. But, like every other time he gave into his Moon, he eventually just smiled indulgently and paid for a second _normal_ pizza for himself. He was _not_ gonna share her shitty ass pizza. Fuckin’ _yuk_.

Christmas was coming up, though, and Harry had _ideas_ about what he wanted to get for his Luna-beam. He just needed a little help with his plan.

**\----------**

“You sure you want to do this, kid?” Frank asked as he cleaned his Kimber, a couple days before Christmas Eve.

Harry bounced on his toes and fiddled with his knife. “Yep. I think it’d be perfect. I just need you, Wade, ‘n Logan to help me put it all together.”

Frank sent him an appraising look. “You think she’d be able to do it?”

Pursing his lips, Harry gave Frank a determined nod. “Pretty sure. She’s not some delicate fuckin’ flower or nothin’. Not like you,” Harry smirked.

“Very funny, kid.” Frank put his gun down on the coffee table and leaned back on the couch, crossing his hands over his chest. “Look, it’s a good idea. Creative. But, I just want to make sure that you know what you’re gettin’ into. She might not be… receptive.”

Harry looked down at his boots for a moment then met Frank’s gaze dead on. “Nah, we’re doin’ it, if you're cool with it. She’ll think it's neat. Enjoy it, even. Probably tell us all about some imaginary animal who had done something like this before.”

Frank raised a brow and curled one lip in a smirk. “You found you a little crazy one, didn’t ya? Well good, she’ll need to be a little crazy for this. You’re on clean up duty, though.”

Beaming at Frank, Harry hurriedly promised that he would make sure that everything was pristine when it was all said and done.

**\----------**

**\--- 21:30 on December 24 th, 1997 ---**

**\--- London, Safehouse Basement (British Baby Gitmo) ---**

The present was all set up and Harry was buzzing with excitement. Severus had even gifted them with a little present of Dreamless Sleep Potion for the bitch’s parents. Frank and Logan made sure that her parents would sleep soundly through the night while the revelry at the safehouse was going on, and then, when they woke on Christmas… well, it would probably be a very _memorable_ Christmas for the Granger family.

“Hey, Luna-beam,” Harry grinned as he walked up to the blond girl who was eating a snack in the kitchen.

She turned a smile on him, cheeks slightly puffed out like a chipmunk from eating one of her new favorite snacks, the Oreo. (Harry still couldn’t believe that they didn’t sell them in the UK!(1) He would have to get Wade and Logan to keep a stash here especially for Luna.)

He snickered at her stuffed face and the chocolate crumbs on her mouth. “When you’re done here - and I know your chocolate is important, so I won’t rush - but when you’re done, I have a present for you.”

Luna cocked her head to the side in question and took a sip of milk to swallow her bite. “What is it?”

Harry reached out a thumb and wiped a crumb off her chin, “It’s a surprise, silly." 

"Surprise? Why?" 

“It’s Christmas Eve, my little Moon. It’s the one night of the year when we all act a little nicer (ha!), we smile a little easier (oh, they would definitely be grinning), we cheer a little more. (Yay for torture!) For a couple of hours out of the whole year we are the people that we always hoped we would be. And, in our case, it's a little different. It's a little more, um, vindictive? Now, you ready? Come on, follow me.”

“Where are we going?” She asked while she bounced on her toes, clearly excited.

Harry shot a smirk her way, “You ever play poker?”

**\----------**

They walked downstairs into the British Baby Gitmo, where Luna was met with a wonderful sight. Frank, Logan and Wade were sitting at a circular poker table off in one corner of the room. Two empty spots were set, waiting for them to join. The table came complete with snacks, drinks (Wade even made Luna one of their special root beer floats) and a deck of playing cards. The only thing that was missing were poker chips. Instead, next to each chair was a writing pad and pencil. Next to the table was a long bench filled with various weapons: knives, swords, handguns, razor blades, brass knuckles, pliers, a machete, and throwing stars - obviously Wade's contribution.

In the corner opposite the table was a body shackled to the wall, dressed in pajama shorts and a tank top. The girl had a blindfold over her eyes, duct tape over her mouth and had obvious signs of putting up a fight before her captors were able to get her locked to the wall. She was conscious but it was obvious to Harry that she had stopped trying to fight or cry, probably resigned to her fate. He grinned. It had to be pretty fuckin’ scary to be kidnapped and held by three huge menacing guys. (Well, two menacing and one fuckin’ insane.)

Luna’s eyes widened as she recognized that it was Hermione shackled to the wall. She took in the poker table and then looked up at Harry. “Are we going to play a game?"

Harry drew her over to her chair and the men at the table began instructing Luna on the rules of poker. Frank, ever the planner and parental figure, had made up a list of hands for her to follow so that she knew which ones would beat the others.

“Okay,” Harry explained (mostly to Luna), “the rules of this game are a bit different. We’re betting torture methods. Whoever wins the hand gets to do whatever is bet to the bitch stuck on the wall over there.” Harry heard Granger whimper through the duct tape at that statement, and curled his lip in a snarl. “She deserves all this shit. She fuckin’ left Luna out to be eaten in the forest, petrified and tortured.”

Logan’s claws instinctually snicked out of his fist that wasn’t holding his beer, but he quickly retracted them and sent an apologetic nod in Luna’s direction. Harry could tell that all the men at the table were murderously pissed about the Granger girl’s actions toward his friend.

Before the first hand, while the other men were explaining the ins and outs of poker to Luna, Harry went over to Granger and whispered in her ear. “Hey Granger, just so you know, you shouldn’t have fucked with my friend. People who fuck with my family die. You fucked with my family, bitch, so you’re gonna die tonight. And we’re all gonna have fun playin’ with you until you do.” 

Harry took out his knife and ran it down her stomach. She flinched away, turning her head and whimpering behind the tape even more. “I’m gonna have _so much fun_ watching my little Luna-beam take her revenge out on your shitty ass. And my fucked-up family is here to help. You’re gonna feel every little bit of pain that you caused my friend. And more. I’m gonna make sure of it.” 

He poked the tip of the knife in, just above the curve of her hip, nicking her a little. Blood welled up in the small scratch and he chuckled, “You should have stayed away. That would have been the smart thing. You weren’t even really on The Scourge’s original list of people to kill.” Hermione jerked in recognition at the name and Harry laughed. “But you just had to stick your head in ‘n go ‘n make a big mistake. Big. _Huge_. Have fun! I know I’m gonna.”

Walking back to the poker table, Harry sat down next to Luna while Logan dealt the first hand. Logan chomped on his cigar and looked at his cards. He wrote something on his pad, folded the paper, then he tossed it in the middle of the table.

Frank, Wade and Harry followed suit. Each of them writing their torture method down and throwing it into the pot. Luna sucked on the end of her pen while scrunching her forehead. She had yet to look at the hand she was dealt. She wrote her bet on the paper and put it in the pot, never once looking at her cards.

Logan lifted a brow, gesturing at her cards with his cigar. “Ya gonna look at your cards there, bub?”

She sent a vague smile his way, “No, Mr. James, don’t worry. I already know I won, so I don’t need to look at them.”

Harry snorted at the use of Logan’s real name, and Frank sent her a dubious look. 

Wade looked up at the ‘author’ and asked, “Are you shitting me here? You gonna give her every win, or do I actually get to use my katanas this time? Or a gun. It’s been a long ass time since you allowed me to do anything _really_ fun, besides eat Mexican food… not that I’m complaining! Poker is fun! Oh shit, don’t write me out of the book!! I’m not complaining... I swear I’m not. Please don’t be the first author in these fandoms to find something that will actually kill me permanently. Fuck… shutting up now.”

Frank slapped him upside the head to stop his rant, and they went ‘round the table trading in cards to better their hands. Luna sat there serenely, watching them without even touching her cards. Wade grumbled about the unfairness of it all, while Logan told him repeatedly to shut up.

When they finally turned their cards over, it was no surprise to Harry that Luna had won. She bounced in her chair with excitement. Harry smiled indulgently as he opened her paper and read out loud. _“Have Wade help me take off her toenails since we have so much fun painting each others’ nails.”_

Granger started crying behind her tape in earnest as Luna and Wade walked excitedly over. Wade instructed her on how to correctly pull off a nail with the best pressure and most pain caused. Harry, Frank and Logan watched impassively, as the girl strung up on the wall started letting out muffled screams, thrashing ineffectively in an attempt to get away. Harry met Frank’s eyes and nodded in gratitude. What a fun gift this was turning out to be.

Luna won most of the hands, either due to her ‘weird knowledge of her cards’ or by the other men throwing their hands. Harry would send them a grateful smile every time that they helped her win. Enabling her to take her _own_ revenge on her tormentor was very important to all of them. 

Through their bets and Luna’s wins, Frank taught her how to hold and fire a handgun properly. She efficiently took out one of Granger’s kneecaps and shot her in the thigh, amidst the blubbering and tears of the tortured girl. Wade was thrilled to teach her how to throw stars correctly so they stuck in Granger’s skin, deep. Logan showed her how to stab into the side of a victim, causing the most pain while ensuring to miss the vital organs, so that the torture could continue as long as possible. He used his claws… she used Harry’s favorite knife, that he happily let her borrow. Wade showed her how to appropriately hold a katana and swing it so she could use the least amount of energy to gain the most amount of pain. (Wade was almost having as much fun as Luna, for which he repeatedly thanked the author.) 

And Harry... Harry showed her how to make pretty pictures on their victim’s skin. He helped Luna carve in pictures of stars, hearts, rainbows, and even a few of her imaginary animals. (She loved drawing that shit, and Wade _loved_ the rainbows for some fuckin’ reason.)

Granger had all but passed out from the pain and blood loss. Luna was covered in the girl’s blood, and grinning. Harry looked at her and felt _so… fuckin’… proud._ This must have been what Frank felt like when Harry was learning how to properly torture a victim when he was younger.

The three older men had pretty much bowed out from the rest of the torture, instead enjoying their beers and watching what the crazy kids were getting up to. Frank was merely staying there to supervise, since Luna was new at all of this. Logan was relaxed, leaning back in his chair, smoking and finishing his cheap beer. Wade had gotten distracted by drawing pictures on the pad that was provided at the beginning of the game. He ended up with a pretty awesome flip book of Granger’s torture, from beginning to end.

Frank called the game when Granger finally passed out, her head falling to her chest and her body dripping blood all over the tarp covering the floor. He took one of the provided Glock 19s and walked over to Luna. “You wanna finish it, Sprite?”

She sent him an adoring smile and nodded. “I would be honored, Mr. Punisher, sir.”

Harry chuckled quietly at the honorific she had tagged Frank with. In his opinion that was worse than ‘Mr. Miyagi’, but Frank wasn’t correcting her, so Harry kept his mouth shut. Frank gestured to Harry with the gun and said, “Here, teach your friend about a double tap.”

Harry took the weapon and steered Luna over to where Granger hung, limp, bloody and almost dead. He helped her line up the shot in the girl’s head and Luna fired. She was a little off center, but Harry was proud since the girl had only fired a weapon one other time. He let her fire the shot in the chest by herself. She still jerked with the recoil. He knew that would go away with experience, though. The shots were effective, and Granger was officially a non-issue anymore. One down... one to go.

Luna gave the weapon back to Harry, who checked the safety, cleared it and dropped the magazine. She smiled at the other three men and said, “I think I really like poker now. It is such a fun game. We should have another game soon.”

Wade cackled at her statement, and Frank looked almost proud. Harry figured it was because of how she had performed during the kill. 

She swung her arms back and forth as she continued, “You have all been so nice to me, and so very helpful. I bet that you will be visited soon by some Snidgets and Pygmy Puffs in your dreams.”

Logan snorted and shook his head at the little girl. Frank lightly patted her on the head. Wade propped himself up on one elbow and mused, “You know, I’ve never seen a Snidget. Sounds fun. Sounds like midget… and I do _love_ me some midgets.”

Harry put his arm around Luna and pulled her into his side. “Well, Frank ‘n Logan said they’d take Granger back home, all wrapped up pretty-like. Don’t want her parents missing her or nothin’. Family _should_ be together on Christmas, after all. And, while they're doing that, you, Wade ‘n I ‘volunteered’ for clean-up duty.”

Wade groaned and dropped his head on the table. “I fucking _knew_ the author would get the last laugh.”

Luna giggled.

**\----------**

**\--- Morning of December 25 th, 1997 ---**

**\--- Hampstead, Granger House ---**

Mr. and Mrs. Granger woke from their sleep on Christmas morning. Both of them feeling slightly groggy, not remembering the evening before or how they even got into their beds. It was later than normal for them to wake, and their daughter had not yet come in to wake them up for their traditional Christmas morning breakfast and gifts.

Mrs. Granger walked down to their daughter’s room and knocked lightly on the door, calling out to her. Receiving no answer, she knocked a little louder. She, again, received no answer so she opened the door to wake her daughter, excited to give her the gifts they had specially chosen for her last Christmas at home.

The scene that greeted her caused the woman to freeze in shock, unable to make a noise to alert her husband. Her daughter was propped up on the bed in a seated position. Her head had lolled to the side and was topped with a Santa hat. She could see a bullet hole through her forehead and dried blood and tears streaked down her face. There was gray tape over her mouth, but a wide, clownish smile was drawn in garish red marker on it. Her body, while still dressed in her ripped and ruined night clothes, was covered in stab wounds, bullet wounds, cuts, horrific carvings, dried blood, and missing finger and toenails. To top off the horrific picture, a large red bow was stuck to her chest and a sign saying ‘Merry Christmas Grangers’ was propped up in her lap.

Mrs. Granger finally found her voice and _screamed_.

**\----------**

**\--- December 25 th, 1997 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- London, Safehouse ---**

Harry had already given his gifts to the guys, sent his gifts off to the wizards that lived at Malfoy Manor and had gotten his from all of his friends and his dad. He had even sent Ragnok a fuckin’ fruit basket. It was a pretty fuckin’ great Christmas in his opinion. The only thing left was to give Luna her present.

She sat near the taped-up drawing of a Christmas tree that Wade had drawn for them a few days earlier. Frank allowed it to be put on the wall, as it was pretty much his only concession to their desire for holiday decorations. (“Fuckin’ pointless. Waste of time to put ‘em up. Waste of time to take ‘em down. Just give a fuckin’ gift… or don’t… then be done with the damn day.”)

Harry plopped down next to her and handed her a (poorly) wrapped box. She peered at it for a moment and then squinted at him. “You already gave me my gift, Scourge. What is this?”

Sending her a sly smile, Harry snickered. “Eh, I wanted to give you something to remember this Christmas by. So… here.”

“You’re so silly, Scourge. Don’t you know?” She asked him impishly, before breaking into quiet song.

_” **I** didn’t want a lot for Christmas_  
_**Y** ou got me everything I need_  
_**I** really don’t care about any presents_  
_**U** nder the paper Christmas tree_

_**I** just wanted them to pay_  
_**A** t least one dead on Christmas day_  
_**Y** ou made my dreams come true_  
_**I** got to bid that bitch ‘adieu’.”_

Harry chortled at her bastardization of the Mariah Carey song that had been playing non-stop on every radio in every store that they had visited during their holiday. Fuck, he would never get enough of hanging out with this crazy girl.

She opened the box slowly, attempting to save the wrapping. (He didn't know why she was even bothering. It wasn’t salvageable. Harry had royally fucked up the whole wrapping process with too much tape and bizarre ass folding techniques.) Pulling out a small colorful package decorated with unicorns, she turned it over and started giggling uncontrollably. She leaned in to give him a side hug, while holding her newest treasure to her chest.

Whispering into his side, she said, “I love them, Scourge. I’m so happy to have my own set. I’ll have to teach daddy how to play poker now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warnings:** drugging people, kidnapping, character held against will, knife violence, gun violence, description of blood, sadistic games, mental torture, death of character. ****** At no time will I _ever_ write about anything sexually inappropriate happening in my torture scenes. That's not my bag. I just say this because three grown men kidnapped a minor girl and held her captive while helping torture her. So, just so you know, I don't write _any_ stuff like that. I have to draw the line somewhere, lol, and that's it. ******
> 
> 1. Oreo did not get produced in the UK until 2008. _https://taffymail.co.uk/a-brief-history-of-oreos_
> 
> Movies/Songs Quoted/Referenced:
> 
>   1. Pulp Fiction (1994)
>   2. Scrooged (1988)
>   3. Pretty Woman (1990)
>   4. "All I Want for Christmas is You" (Song - Mariah Carey, 1994) - obviously a _super_ bastardized version
> 



	38. And a Happy New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not so much a Happy New Year for the Order of the Phoenix. However, a happy New Year for those at Malfoy Manor, _mostly_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, welp. I guess you're welcome(??) for something that y'all probably _really_ wanted. ☠️ Lol. At least I hope you wanted it. Enjoy 💜 **Trigger Warnings** at end of chapter.

**\--- Interlude (Part X) – Headmaster’s Office (Order of the Phoenix Meeting) ---**

Albus’ headache was severely threatening to break through his forehead. Even a pain potion from Severus didn’t seem to completely rid him of the massive pressure and pain. It didn’t help that the amount of sheer racket coming from the gathered Order members had reached epic proportions. It wasn't usually this loud at their meetings. But since they had recently had to relocate their meeting location from the Potter house to his office, the amount of people packed in one room just increase the noise. He couldn't believe that Gringotts had seized the home! Sure, it was part of the Potter estate, but it was not being used and had obviously been ignored by the Castiglione Lord. Albus had assumed they would never get caught. Besides, the fidelus there still held. Or it had. Until the goblins came and broke it, seizing the heirlooms inside and kicking them all to the curb. What a mess.

He had also been informed by the Granger family that their daughter was found _brutally_ murdered on Christmas. It was yet another in a string of very ‘muggle-type’ murders of wizards in their circle. Even more irksome, it was one of his _soldiers_ , that he was training to fight against Voldemort and his evil machinations, who died. The girl’s body had been horrifically mutilated and then shot. Aurors had taken over the case, obliviating the constables and investigators who had come to Hampstead when the Grangers had originally called in the murder. They investigated the scene, checked the Grangers over for dark magic, checked the girl’s home for anything that might be traced back to the wizarding world.

Yet, no matter how much they searched, there was no suspect in the murder. The aurors were completely baffled. Kingsley had _never_ seen anything like it in his years on the force. There was no magical signature. The death was seemingly random, however horrible. It appeared to be a muggle robbery gone wrong, or a simple muggle break and entry. The oddest thing, however, was how _personal_ the murder seemed. It was just like poor, poor Arabella. Just like the Dursleys, whose murder had still not been solved. All of these deaths struck Albus as just _too_ personal, just too close to the Harry Potter conspiracy.

Moody was getting even more paranoid about these murders and deaths. He knew some of the history of the Harry Potter conspiracy. He was one of the original Order members that discovered a little of what Albus was up to. However, he understood the reasoning for doing this for the greater good, so he kept quiet about that part. But all these deaths were causing the man to become a liability. Albus would have to monitor him as the days went by.

This whole situation was becoming very, very disconcerting to Albus. As his Order members were thinning in ranks, his frustration was gaining.

Albus could tell that Tom was moving in more and more underhanded ways recently. Laws were being passed that allowed for more open use of darker magic. Dark creatures were being given more rights. Kingsley kept Albus informed of the goings on at the Ministry, and they were not good. Jobs were being taken by those who were either known Death Eaters or supporters of the cause. They were supposedly doing this ‘legally’, but Albus knew better. The dark forces would never do anything above board. They would always try to subvert the system, to extinguish the light forces. They would always work against true magic. No, Albus needed to get a handle on this situation soon.

Clearing his throat to cut through the arguments in the room, he said as calmly as he could, “Friends, friends, we need to remain calm through this latest hindrance. The light has been persecuted before. We will prevail.”

Minerva screeched at him, “Hindrance??? This is’na _hindrance_ , Albus! ‘Tis a war! We've no money anymore. I canna’ access my vaults at Gringotts. They say ‘tis a ‘error’ that will be fixed, but they canna’ tell me when. And I know I’m not th’ only one! All of us have at least one or _more_ of our vaults frozen right now.”

Tonks piped in as soon as Minerva stopped with her rant. “Mine and mum’s vaults are frozen as well. We were told that it could be months before our money is accessible, with no real explanation why. Mother is beside herself. She can’t maintain her household with no income. At least I’m still getting my pay from the aurors, but that isn’t enough to support all of us.”

“It all seems a bit fishy, if you ask me, Albus,” Elphias Doge mused. “It seems to me that _only_ those who belong to your Order have been affected. Why is that Albus? We’ve never had to deal with these sorts of issues. It’s always been a cut and dried fight against the dark. Here, we have _no idea_ who we are even fighting. The bank is even involved, and the goblins _never_ involve themselves in the machinations of wizards. Yes, the whole thing seems _very fishy_ to me.”

Molly and Arthur were sitting to the side of Albus’ desk, Molly staying quiet for once in her life. For that Albus was immensely grateful. The way that woman’s voice grated on his nerves was more than he could deal with right then. She rocked back and forth with silent tears streaming out of her eyes. Albus conjured a handkerchief and handed it to the grieving woman, receiving a grateful nod from her.

She finally ruined Albus’ reprieve from having to hear her and blubbered loudly, “That’s three innocent _children_ , Albus! _THREE!_ Two of _my_ babies and one of their good friends. Who will be next? I do not care about the money… as much… I care about our lives! The lives of the children! Who could possibly be doing this to us??? We’ve done nothing wrong!”

There were mumbles of agreement and frustration about loss of funds and loss of companions rippling through the meeting. Albus finally stopped them before they spiraled into another ruckus that would increase the tension headache that he couldn’t quite get rid of. He looked over to Severus, who had remained quiet during the whole proceeding, and asked, “Severus, my boy, do you have anything to add to this meeting? Any insights from something you might have learned during your _extra duties?”_

Severus sent everyone a sneer and remarked dryly, “Although Voldemort seems to be glad about the current state of affairs, he is most definitely _not_ personally responsible for this. Of that I can be sure.”

Taking his glasses off and pinching his nose in frustration, Albus sighed. This was not shaping up to be a very good New Year at all. He would need to triple his lemon drop order.

**\----------**

_I’ll have to teach daddy how to play poker now._

**\--- December 31 st, 1997 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Malfoy Manor New Year’s Eve Party ---**

Frank, Logan and Wade decided against going to the Manor for the Malfoy’s New Year’s Eve ‘soiree’. Logan said that Wade wasn’t allowed to go, much to Wade’s disappointment. But Logan, ever the wise influence on the crazy Merc with a Mouth, realized that having an insane, masked, red spandexed, katana wielding, anti-hero in the mix of the pompous ass wizarding elite was just _asking_ for trouble. And Frank, well, he didn’t give one shit about going to some stuck up fuckin’ party full of ‘assholes’, as he called them. He’d rather stay at their home in London and watch TV, while drinking beer in comfortable clothes.

He did tell Harry that he and Luna should go. (“Girls like to dress up ‘n shit, kid. You should take her. Besides, you learned to dance with all those fuckin’ lessons they made you take. You should use that shit for _somethin’_.” Frank snorted and continued, "Can't imagine you fuckin' waltzin' in a sniper's nest durin' an op.")

So, Harry took Luna to Twilfitt and Tatting’s after Christmas so that she could get some pretty robes to wear. He got some dress robes too, after she informed him that they were going to match. (“Just let her do what she wants to do when it comes to dressing you up all pretty ‘n shit, kid. Arguing with women _never_ works. You’ll always lose. You just smile, nod, pay for the shit she says you both need, and wear it without complainin'. Just hope to fuck she doesn’t put you in some shit that you can’t fight in.”) 

Harry didn’t care that the store was supposedly highbrow and for only purebloods, he just wanted to make sure his Luna-beam got the best and prettiest clothes possible for the party. She was already radiant and glowing in just jeans and a t-shirt. He figured that if she was put in something that even closely resembled her inner beauty, then she would outshine everyone there. He felt like some fairy-godfather or something.

Luckily for him, his ever bizarrely knowledgeable friend chose comfortable green-ish robes for both of them that matched her hair _and_ easily hid a veritable cache of his weapons. She felt pretty. (Not that she cared about that kind of thing that much.) He felt safe. (Which he _very much_ cared about.) Win-win.

**\----------**

Lucius, Narcissa and Draco met them at the door of the manor when they arrived. Narcissa looked down her nose at Harry’s choice of companion. Apparently, even though Luna’s blood status was good enough, her family name was quite ‘beyond the pale’ for the genteel folk in the manor. Harry thought that was a crock of shit. He congratulated himself for holding back from stabbing his knife in her eye. He was going to behave. He promised Frank and Tom. No death tonight. Besides, he wouldn’t want to dirty the fuckin’ expensive ass robes that Luna stuck them in.

Grabbing Luna’s hand after they said their ‘greetings’ to the Malfoys (read: tried not to murder the stuck-up bitch), he pulled her into the ballroom. He’d find Tom, or even Sirius and Remus first. At least they wouldn’t treat Luna like she was a piece of shit lower than them. They’d probably actually enjoy her odd way of looking at the world. Remus, the more studious of the two of them, might even want to learn about all the ‘animals’ that Luna was going to search for after she left school. She had tons of notes and information. Hell, she might have even _brought the notes with her_. Harry had given up on predicting what his sprite was liable to do.

Looking around the room, he could tell that all of the Death Eaters were there, dressed in their finery. Many Ministry employees were also there, both supporters of Tom and just people who worked at the Ministry. Harry even noticed a couple members of the Order of the Phoenix, Shacklebolt and Dodge. He snorted under his breath and squeezed Luna’s hand to get her attention.

“I bet they’re pretty frustrated that _they_ couldn’t get nice new clothes for this party. It must be a total bummer to not have any disposable income anymore,” Harry whispered to her, smothering a snicker.

She turned twinkling eyes on him and gifted him with a sly smile. “They would still be ugly, even if they _did_ have money, Scourge. No amount of pretty plumage will ever disguise a rotting bird.”

He laughed outright and pulled her closer to his side, “And the Order certainly is rotten, isn’t it? Let’s go find someone interesting to chat with. You can tell Tom all about the Wibble-whirling Fizbiggles that are chasing after him.”

Luna stopped abruptly and shook her head vehemently, golden hair flying loose from her messy updo. “Those don’t even _exist_ , silly!” She crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips in a thoughtful pout. “Why would I ever talk to someone about animals that don’t even exist? That just doesn't make any sense.”

Harry closed his eyes for a moment and chuckled at the irony. He tugged her hand again and hid his grin, while saying, “I can’t even _imagine_ a reason, Moonbeam. You're right. It doesn’t sound like you _at all_. Now, come on, let’s go find Tom or the others.”

**\----------**

Harry made sure that Luna had fun. That’s all he really gave a shit about for the whole evening. Sure, it was nice to chat with Sirius and Remus. They were pretty grateful for the large, random arrival of numerous treasures from his biological parents’ house.

_“So, we received a few packages from Gringotts earlier this month. We were quite confused with the first one, and then by the fifth one we were shocked. What did you do, pup?” Sirius asked as they stood off to the side of the ballroom._

_Harry grinned and told Remus and Sirius about the deal that he had made regarding his parents’ home. He said he wanted to make sure that the heirlooms went to people who knew them best._

_Remus smiled sadly, “There were quite a few photographs in there, too, cub. You might want to look at those one day.”_

_Humming in thought, Harry gave a slow nod. “Yeah, maybe someday. I think they probably mean a hell of a lot more to you guys, though. I just wanted to make sure you had everything you could, to remember them by.”_

_Sirius stepped forward to give him a hug, then quickly aborted the motion, probably remembering the last time he tried. Luna poked Harry’s side and gestured him forward. He rolled his eyes at the small blond. He stepped forward and gave Sirius one of the most awkward hugs of his entire life. It was over quickly, thank fuck, but Sirius’ face showed how much it meant to him. _

_Remus got an awkward hug as well. Fuck, Luna was such a bad influence._

**\----------**

She made him dance. Well… she ‘made’ him by asking nicely while twinkling her eyes and twirling a couple strands of hair that had fallen from her odd bun-thing. At this point, he was pretty sure that she wasn’t a moon-sprite, but a devil in disguise. God, but he was a sucker for this girl.

At least she enjoyed herself. She seemed to be mostly over her ordeal at the hands of Ron and Hermione. So, if he had to make an ass of himself in a fuckin’ waltz to help her forget, that’s what he’d do. He was just glad that neither Wade nor Frank were there to take pictures. 

Tom and he had a decent conversation about the furthering of his plans. After he went back to school, they planned to focus even more effort on finding the warding stone they thought was leeching the magic for Dumbledore. Harry had a few ideas as where to look, but so far, everywhere he had looked came up a bust. He promised that he would keep in touch even more when he returned to Hogwarts.

As midnight got closer, Harry decided he would run outside and text Frank and the guys a quick ‘Happy New Year’. He whispered to Luna that she should stay near either Tom, Sirius, Severus or Remus, since he didn’t fully trust any of the others at the party. She nodded at him distractedly, then proceeded to continue her discussion on Magizoology with Remus. Harry _knew_ those two would get on like a house on fire. He _was_ , however, kind of disappointed that she hadn’t brought up Wibble-whirling Fizbiggles yet.

**\----------**

_(Scourge) 23:02_

> hppy new year ya flthy anmals 

_(Miyagi) 23:04_

> you havin fun kid? 

_(Dead) 23:04_

> kissy kissy under the mistletoe

_(Scourge) 23:06_

> *ignors Dead* its coo shes havn fun 

_(Scourge) 23:06_

> talkn bout her fukn anmals lol

_(Dead) 23:07_

> theyre all real!!! 

_(Patch) 23:08_

> before this gets dumber happy new year bub 

_(Dead) 23:08_

> not dumb im fabulous 

_(Miyagi) 23:08_

> you gonna be back by 2 or 3? 

_(Scourge) 23:09_

> m

Harry’s head snapped up when he heard something behind him, and he accidentally hit send on his unfinished message. He turned to look for what caused the noise, but before he could see anything, the world around him quickly turned black. _Fuck_

**\----------**

_(Miyagi) 23:12_

> kid?

_(Miyagi) 23:17_

> kid? answer me 

_(Patch) 23:18_

> bub? you there? 

_(Dead) 23:23_

> aw fuck the author wont say where he is

_(Miyagi) 23:29_

> seriously kid fuckin answer me 

_(Miyagi) 23:35_

> if you dont answer im callin a 18-1201(1)

_(Miyagi) 23:38_

> fuck this im omw

_(Patch) 23:39_

> hold on bub

_(Dead) 23:39_

> nobody kidnaps my bitty baby scourge!!!!

**\----------**

Harry’s head hurt like a sonofabitch when he was spelled out of his stupor. His arms were tied behind his back and he was seated in a highly uncomfortable chair. Fuckin’ kidnappers _never_ cared for the comfort of their victims. Well, he should know, he mused. Maybe from now on he would make sure that the torture chairs in Baby Gitmo had a decent cushion or something.

He glanced around and noticed that he was in a dark gardening shed with only one small, long window at the top of the wall. He assumed that he was still on Malfoy property. He gauged his probability of escape, or of anyone seeing him here. But he knew the sheds were pretty far out on the property, and the door didn't have any windows for people to see in. Over in the corner, humming sadistically to herself, stood Bellatrix. With the dim light inside the shed, he could barely make out the insane glint in her eyes and the malicious smirk. 

“Wewwl, wewwl, wewwl. The wittle mudblood has woken up. Good. We didn’t get to pway very much last time. And there have been twoo many witnesses for me to get you back. You embawwased me, you made me look bad in fwont of my Lord,” Bellatrix spat at him.

Harry rolled his eyes. “First of all, you insane bitch, I’m _not a fuckin’ mudblood_. Why does everyone think that? Is it cus I claim Frank as my dad? I guess that makes sense, but seriously. You’re an inner circle member. You fuckin’ _know_ my birth parents were wizards. And by your world’s insane ideology on blood purity, that makes me half-blood, at least. Maybe pureblood. I don’t fuckin’ know, and I don’t care. But you should _at least_ do your research, fuckwit.”

“Down’t tell me what to do!” She screamed at him, pointing her wand at his chest and yelling, _"Crucio!"_

Harry’s body bowed off the chair as far as it would go with the restraints on. His entire body shuddered and locked up in pain. It felt like there were millions of pins sticking in each open nerve ending. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it _at all_.

She eventually released the curse with a snarl, “I don’t cawe what you are. I cawe that you will die!”

“Jesus _fuck_ , woman. Learn to lose graciously. I left you fuckin’ alive, didn’ I?? Tom saved your ass and everything,” Harry gasped out, trying to regain his breath after the _crucio_. “Besides,” he scowled at her, “I’m not the one who’s gonna die here tonight.”

Bellatrix tapped her wand against her palm, “Lies!!! You’re not good enough fowe my Lord. And you deserve to die for everything you've done to me!” She raised her wand again and shouted, _“Diffindo!”_

Harry felt a cut form all the way from his left shoulder down to his right hip. Fuck! He was gonna _kill_ this bitch! Not only did she just cut one of his favorite shoulder holsters… she fuckin' _ruined_ the dress robes that Moon made him buy. “Goddamnit!! These robes were _expensive_ , you ass!”

_“Crucio!”_ She yelled again, apparently indifferent to his fashion crisis. Harry was _seriously_ starting to fuckin’ hate that curse. She held it on him for twenty seconds before letting it go. He had sweat dripping down his temples and blood pouring out of the cut on his chest. She placed him under the curse once more, allowing him only a moment in-between.

When she finally let up for a second, he moved his wrists back and forth, testing the strength of his bonds. They were strong, but probably easy enough to cut through. If he could get his knife, that is. Before he could get to it, or attempt to break the bonds with his magic, however, she shot him with another long _crucio_ and couple more cutting curses. A deep one on his arm and another on his cheek. This was getting beyond annoying at this point. He needed to change the power dynamic in this fight, fast.

“Pwoor bitty baby Scwourge. No one to swave you now,” she taunted in her sing song voice.

Harry snarled at her, “Don’t fuckin’ call me that. Only Deadpool gets to call me that. And I don’t need to be saved, you crazy fuckin’ ditz. Just… need… to breathe ‘n focus.”

Bellatrix cackled in laughter, but it quickly faded as she watched him transform into his animagus form. The bonds that held him fell to the floor. He leapt forward and snapped his jaws around her neck, twisting in an attempt to tear her throat. They fell to the ground, Harry on top of her, snarling. Bellatrix sprawled on the ground beneath him, attempting to fire curses while wrestling his wolf form.

He quickly transformed back and drew his knife. Snicking it open, he immediately stabbed it deep into her shoulder, causing her to drop her wand and cry out in pain. He jumped back off of her into a crouch. Before she was able to sit up fully and recover to fight again, he pulled his gun, cocked it and shot two successive shots into her head and heart. Her head snapped back and she crumpled back to the floor. She lay there on the ground, arms spread wide, eyes vacant and staring up at the ceiling of the shed. Her throat showed jagged cuts where it was pierced by his wolf fangs, and there was blood _everywhere_. 

“Fuckin’ play with matches, you get burned, bitch,” he whispered as he watched the hole in her head slowly bleed out on the ground beneath her. He spit blood on the ground and wiped his mouth off with his sleeve. Fuckin' gross. Remind him to avoid biting people in his animagus form at any cost.

Son of a bitch, Tom was gonna be _pissed_ when he learned about this. So was Frank. Harry had _promised_ everyone that he would behave tonight. That the body count would be zero. And Harry had _no clue_ how to explain how Tom's favorite enforcer had _randomly_ been brutally murdered and shot in the head. Harry could have just body bound the bitch and let Tom take care of it instead of full on killing her. Shit. Maybe Harry could say that she walked in front of a couple of his bullets. Yeah, that sounded legit.

Harry pressed his hand against his abdomen and tried to cast a healing spell on himself to stop the excessive bleeding. It slowed, but the cut only mostly closed. He really sucked at this healing magic shit. Breathing heavily, he continued to ponder the dead witch on the ground, not really sure as to the best course of action. He looked like shit, was covered in blood, and there was no way he could go back to the party without raising any alarms.

He heard the door to the shed creak open and he quickly spun to bring his weapon up and point it at the intruder. He let out a relieved sigh when he was only met with the sight of Luna, framed by the light of the evening’s nearly full moon.

“Shit, Moonbeam. I _almost shot_ you,” he mumbled, breathing harshly through the lingering pain from his torture.

Luna gazed absently at him for a moment. “You wouldn’t have," she murmured dreamily. She paused and actually took in his appearance, "You've gone and ruined your pretty robes.” 

"Pretty sure that's the least of my worries right now, Moon. Might need to stop some of this frickin' bleedin' before I give a damn about the robes."

_"Episkey,"_ she whispered after she walked up to him and raised her wand. He flinched slightly and watched the cut on his arm close. 

She went to fix the one on his cheek, but he gently pushed the wand down. "Don't worry about the rest of it. I'd rather fix them when we get back to the house anyway. I prefer regular stitches and our first aid kit."

She nodded in understanding at his preference to do things the 'muggle' way. She always understood his quirks.

Luna glanced briefly at the dead witch on the ground. Shaking her head, she hummed,

_“ **D** ing-dong!_  
_**T** he merry-o sing it high,_  
_**S** ing it low,_  
_**L** et them know the wicked witch is dead._  
_**D** ing-dong,_  
_**T** he witch is dead!_  
_**W** hich old witch?_  
_**T** he wicked witch!_  
_**D** ing-dong, _  
_**T** he wicked witch is dead...”_

Harry let out a pained huff of amusement at her song. “I’m gonna have to break this to Tom somehow,” he said, while shaking his head and putting his weapon away. He reached down and yanked his knife out of Bellatrix's shoulder, bracing her dead body with his boot. He wiped the blade on his robe before putting it back in its sheath. He held his stomach as he looked ruefully down at his robes again. They were a complete lost cause at this point, as Luna had so helpfully pointed out.

After he put everything away, Luna handed him his phone. He took from her with a questioning look. 

“I found this on the ground out in the garden. It is almost midnight and I heard that you’re supposed to ring in the New Year how you intend to spend the rest of it. So, of course, I wanted to be with you. But you weren’t there. And I knew you would never leave me. So I just had to find you. But I couldn’t for a little while. Then, I remembered! All I had to do was follow the whispering Dabberblimps, and they led me here to you.”

Harry nodded absently at her explanation while he quickly checked his messages. He swore under his breath. Frank was gonna fuckin' _kill_ him. He shot off a couple quick texts to Frank and the guys, hopefully calming their collective asses down about his random disappearance.

_(Scourge) 23:54_

> 10-106(2)

_(Miyagi) 23:54_

> the fuck happened to you

_(Scourge) 23:55_

> bela btch went fugazi(3)

_(Scourge) 23:55_

> body count 1

_(Miyagi) 23:55_

> ima kill you when i see you kid then it’ll be body count 2

_(Scourge) 23:56_

> ya ya <3 u 2 dad

_(Miyagi) 23:57_

> im getting too old for this shit

_(Miyagi) 23:57_

> we’ll be there in a bit you two stay put

_(Scourge) 23:58_

> can do hve 2 clean up a bit - c u soon

Luna watched him text for a minute, then walked out the door and stood under the moonlight. She turned back to look at him and giggled. Affecting her best American drawl she said, “So, you just gonna stand there, Scourge? Bleeding and shit? Making a mess?”

Harry barked out a laugh and limped out to join her in the open air, just outside the Malfoy's garden shed. “I can’t believe that I’m all cut up and you’re fuckin’ quoting The Substitute to me. I’ve completely corrupted you, Luna-beam. All those movies we watch are ruining your delicate sensibilities.”

“Maybe. But I think you might be able to pull off a suit better than that guy. However, he was a pretty awesome teacher.”

Gingerly lowering himself down on the ground, Harry held his stomach to put a little pressure on the sluggish bleeding. He snorted at her. “Well, he’d be better than me at teachin' anyway. I can’t stand kids.”

“Hmm, at least you’re both good mercenaries,” she snickered.

Harry quirked his mouth in a tired grin. He looked down at his phone and noticed that it was just after midnight. “Hey! It's after midnight! Happy New Year, Moonbeam.”

“Aren’t you supposed to kiss me?” She sent him a mischievous smile then jokingly pursed her lips. 

Harry crinkled his eyes in humor at his favorite sprite in all the world. “Yep! You’re right. And what kind of a gentleman would I be if I skipped that??” He leaned in to give her a kiss, sending her a flirtatious wink. Then, he lifted her hand, and kissed her palm instead. “There. All good now. Happy New Year, my little Moon-sprite.”

She giggled, “Happy New Year, Scourge.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warnings:** canon typical spell violence, blood, stabbing, gun violence, description of animal bite, death
> 
> 1. Title 18 U.S. Code § 1201 - Kidnapping; _https://www.law.cornell.edu/uscode/text/18/1201_  
>  2. Secure (Status is Secure) - _https://copradar.com/tencodes_  
>  3. Completely out of whack, fucked up, screwy. _https://www.military.com/join-armed-forces/military-terms-and-jargon.html_
> 
> Movies Quoted/Referenced:
> 
>   1. Home Alone (1990)
>   2. Mortal Kombat (1995)
>   3. Pulp Fiction (1994)
>   4. The Wizard of Oz (1939, Direct Quoted Song Lyrics) 
>   5. Lethal Weapon (1987)
>   6. The Substitute (1996)
> 



	39. On Communication with Rocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank is frustrated. Harry loses his temper. Ron holds his tongue. Then Harry learns to get in touch with his geological side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say that I love writing owls to Voldemort. Yep, that's pretty much all I have to say. Enjoy and thank y'all for the comments/love, as always. 💜

_She giggled, “Happy New Year, Scourge.”_

**\--- January 1 st, 1998 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Malfoy Manor ---**

Tom had been understandably confused when Luna walked up to get him from the party. She, of course, explained the situation in a way that only Luna ever could. She told him the Nargles flying round the Evil Sorceress had attacked Scourge, and if it wasn’t for the Dabberblimps, then the Wicked Witch of the West would have won. She went on to tell him, it _had_ to be the West, even though they were in Wiltshire, since the East was already smunched by a house. And her socks had shriveled. And only her pretty sparkly red shoes were left. Which, Luna then said she would like a pair of, if Tom ever came across any. But, she would prefer them in blue.

So, yeah, he had pretty much _no_ idea what he was going to walk into when he, Lucius, Severus, Sirius _and_ Remus followed her out to the shed.

Harry maintained his seat on the ground when they approached. Hey, he was pretty fuckin’ tired, okay? Luna skipped over to him and told him that she had explained everything, so he didn’t need to worry about it. And she might even get some shoes out of the whole deal! (Even Harry was a bit confused at that statement.) But he knew his sprite, and he pretty much gathered that the men standing there, with their mouths agape, had very much _not_ been told about the situation in ‘real people’ terms.

He sent Tom a wry grin and explained what had happened. All the while, Luna was standing behind him protesting that she had _already said that, Scourge!_ He just shook his head fondly at the girl and explained that some people need to hear it more than once. Besides, he told her, he was there the whole time, so he could give a better picture of what had happened during the fight. That seemed to mollify her.

Lucius looked inside his shed and quickly turned back out. “Mr. Scourge, was there no way you might have done this a little cleaner? The Malfoys are not in the habit of having gruesome murders happen on the grounds during the holidays. We have dungeons for a reason.”

Harry coughed incredulously, then immediately regretted the action as pain shot through his abdomen. “Are you shittin’ me? _Cleaner?_ Lucy, I didn’t have any precious downtime to knit some fuckin’ socks and give a flyin’ fuck about bein’ clean, and I sure as hell didn’t _choose_ the location. Your insane friend in there chose the venue. I just finished her off when she tried to kill me. Just be happy I left you enough of her to identify.”

Tom looked in at the dead body of Bellatrix and sighed back at Harry, shaking his head. “Well, I suppose I did tell her to leave you alone. I am none too pleased with this outcome, Scourge. However, I am glad that you are okay. I understand that she did have a penchant to be a little overzealous in her revenge for imagined slights.”

Harry’s eyes boggled out of his head as he listened to Tom’s understated way of explaining away an insane witch’s desire to kill him. _A little overzealous??_

In the end, though, he didn’t really care. He was mostly fine. Luna was fine. Another annoyance in his life was dead. 

The other three wizards there were attempting to heal him up and give him potions for his pain, but he didn’t really want that. It wasn’t that he didn’t _trust_ the potions and magic, it was just that he didn’t do that sort of thing. It had to be a pretty big emergency, like almost bleeding out earlier, for him to resort to healing magic. But the bleeding had pretty much stopped now, and he was good to go with his normal way of dealing with injuries. By ignoring them.

Just like Frank, he didn’t want to put anything in his body or do anything to his body that might alter it, just in case he needed to react quickly to something. It was how he was raised. It was just how things were done. You refused the drugs. Sewed yourself together and sucked up the pain. You drove on. He had no idea how these potions would make him feel, so he was happier just declining them. (Even though Severus swore up and down that they would be fine in his body.) And he was just fine, thank you very much, with no one turning a wand on him. (Unless it was Luna. And _only_ on very rare occasions.)

The grown wizards began making arrangements for the body, while Lucius went back to the party to ensure that his guests were none the wiser to what had happened that evening. Tom would cover it in an inner circle meeting later, Harry was sure.

Frank was pretty pissed off when he and the guys finally showed up at the manor an hour or so after Harry had sent the ‘all clear’. Tom did his best to soften the whole situation with his easy political charm, but Frank wasn’t having that shit. He was livid that his kid had been hurt in the presence of those who had sworn to protect him. He was starting to threaten to pull Harry from this whole ‘bullshit place’, when Harry pulled him aside.

“Ehi, Frank, Miyagi ... _papà_ , sto bene adesso. Sto bene. Sono vivo,” (1) Harry assured him while placing a hand on the imposing man’s shoulder. ( _“Hey, Frank, Miyagi…_ dad _, I’m okay now. I'm fine. I'm alive.”_ )

Frank clenched his jaw and shook his head a couple times, before pulling him in for a brief hug. (Harry always got the good hugs when he came back from an 'interrogation under duress'.) “Fottendo stronzi, dovrei ucciderli tutti,” (1) he grumbled into Harry’s hair. ( _“Fuckin’ assholes, I should kill ‘em all.”)_

Harry snorted. “One's already dead. I made doubly sure of that. Besides, if we kill everyone here, we would have a massive cleanup on our hands. We don’t want that, now, do we?” He asked, blinking owlishly at the man.

Frank looked over at the men who were finishing dealing with Bellatrix’s body and sighed, “Shouldn't he have lost his magic, or some shit, because of this?"

Shoving him slightly, Harry rolled his eyes. "He couldn't have predicted this, Frank. It's not like he's gonna walk behind me every fuckin' second of every day. He didn't swear that nothin' would ever happen to me, he swore to do his _best_."

"Yeah? Well his _best_ is shit. You could do better when you were _nine fuckin' years old_." Frank ran his hand down his face and grunted in frustration, "Couldn’t you just magically blow up this whole shit and be done with it? And what the _fuck_ made you decide to turn into a wolf?”

Shrugging the shoulder that wouldn’t pull at his cuts, Harry just cracked an innocent smile. “I was utilizing my resources?”

Rolling his eyes and double checking that Harry was okay enough for travel, Frank bundled both Harry and Luna up with Wade and Logan and made for London. He had quickly cut off any attempts from the wizards to keep them at the manor overnight. He wanted his kid back safe and sound, where he could make sure that he was able to heal. Where he could make sure that he didn’t get himself ‘goddamned killed’.

Wade thought the party sounded fun, after Luna told him all about it. Frank told him to shut the fuck up. Logan smoked his cigar and ignored them all. Harry figured it wasn’t the best party he had ever gone to… but it most certainly wasn’t the _worst_. After all, he did get to stab someone, and that was always cool.

**\----------**

**\--- January 3 rd, 1998 (Seventeen Years Old ---**

**\--- Malfoy Manor, Death Eater Inner Circle Meeting ---**

Tom sat at the head of the table, as usual, but the feeling amongst the inner circle was not as joyful as it had been the last meeting that Harry had attended. Sure, it _was_ kind of his fault that this meeting was even being held, but he didn’t think that people should be _that_ sad. Come on! Bella was a total bitch!

Frank wouldn’t let Harry out of his sight just yet. He stood behind Harry’s chair, positioned to fight whoever started anything. He was probably still a _little_ pissed off that his kid had gotten hurt under the watch of Tom and his supposed ‘uncles’. Harry mostly understood that. If Frank or Luna had gotten hurt, he wouldn’t let them out of his sight for a fuckin’ long ass time. Besides, with his injuries still only mostly mended, he wasn’t in peak fighting form. It was nice to have Frank to fall back on in a pinch.

Luna was not invited to this meeting, but she did tag along with Logan to the manor. They were probably hanging out with some of Fenrir and Remus’ pack somewhere. Harry wouldn’t put it past Luna to have brought the damn nail polish and be out there giving the whole lot of werewolves fuckin’ manicures. Just imagine the glitter pink claws!

Harry glanced at the others around the table as he sat there, fiddling with his knife. Narcissa had yet to make full eye contact with him, and chose to instead glare at all those around her. Lucius would try to console her in their bizarre aristocratic Malfoy way, which meant that he pretty much ignored the fact that his wife had feelings and nodded his head her way a couple times. Harry snorted to himself, the biggest fuckin’ issue the man had with his sister-in-law’s murder was that it made a ‘mess’ of his fuckin’ garden shed, for Christ’s sake. A shed that was quickly cleaned by the house elves, by the way, so it’s not like anyone was _really_ put out at all.

“I would like to ensure that all gathered here understand what occurred on the night of the New Year,” Tom droned from his chair, bringing the meeting to order. 

Nagini had woven herself around his chair and poked her head behind him, over his shoulder. She bobbed her head as if she understood what he was saying, flicking her tongue out to taste the ‘feelings’ in the air. For all Harry knew, she _did_ understand what was being said. Tom did say that she was a fuckin’ riot sometimes. (Not in those exact words, of course.)

Barty, bless his crazy ass, piped up from his end of the table, “We understand, My Lord, that one of our own trusted members decided to attack Scourge, and therefore paid the price with her blood.”

Harry held back a smirk at that. Damn right she paid in fuckin’ blood. He could still remember how horrible it tasted. Ugh, the nausea.

Sirius and Remus met each other’s eyes in some secret communication before Remus spoke up. “My Lord, Lord Black and I wanted to express our concern over the fact that there might certain people here, who feel that they should take it upon themselves to punish Scourge for his actions. We would like to make sure that that does not occur.”

“Yes, I understand your concerns,” Tom placated the two. He turned to address the table, “I want to make sure that everyone present knows that there will be no repercussions regarding this event. Scourge acted well within his rights to fight back when he was unjustly attacked. Bellatrix was warned. You have _all_ been warned. I would expect the same if it was another of my trusted who was attacked. We are fighting against outside sources. Fighting amongst ourselves is only counterproductive,” Tom explained.

Harry slumped in his chair and grumbled to Tom and Frank, “Als währe es meine Schuld, daß mich diese Schlampe entführt hat.” (2) ( _Like it was my fault the insane bitch kidnapped me._ )

Tom huffed an annoyed breath. “Ja ja. Wir wissen das du schuldlos und niemals gewalttätig bist. Jetzt halt die Klappe.” (2) ( _Yes, yes. We know you are blameless and never violent. Now, shut up._ )

Frank chuckled lowly behind him and Harry just shook his head at the unfairness of it all.

**\----------**

**\--- January 5 th, 1998 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Hogwarts Express ---**

Harry and Luna found a compartment toward the back of the train, mostly for some peace and quiet before they went back to the insanity that was Harry’s year at Hogwarts. Luna opted to forgo sitting next to Harry, and instead decided the best seat would be on the floor in between his legs. She informed him that it was perfectly okay for him to brush her hair and braid it while she read to him. She wouldn't mind at all. She would even let him put pretty barrettes in, if he wanted to. He took that as a ‘you should brush and braid my hair while I read to you’ _order_ , not a suggestion.

Letting out an amused huff, he started brushing her hair while she read to him some _very interesting_ poetry that she had found in London over the winter break.

**_Red As Blood_ **  
_" **T** he fire is red as blood._  
_**I** watch the flames go up in the air,_  
_**A** s I taste the sadness of the people whose houses have burnt to the ground._  
_**I** turn back,_  
_**B** ut all I hear is the bursting and explosion of flames.”_ (3)

“Merlin’s baggy ballsack! That’s a horrible poem,” an annoying voice interrupted their solitude.

Harry dropped the brush and looked over to the compartment door where Ron Weasley currently stood. He held his wand in his hand and seemed surprised that he had come upon the scene of the two of them relaxing together. He puffed out his chest and narrowed his eyes at the sight he had walked in on. “What’re you doing on the floor, you nutter? You’re barmy, you are.” 

Ron glanced at Harry and grunted, “Don’t care about you no more neither, Castiglione. You’re a right prat. And you’re obviously mad as a bag of ferrets if you’re still hanging about with the likes of _Loony_. You an’ your bint can toss off, for all I care. Don’t matter what they told me to do, anymore. It isn’t worth it.”

He shook his head and grumbled about the stupidity of hanging around traitors, nutters, and boys who did girls’ hair.

Harry glanced down at Luna, who had stopped her (morbid) poetry reading and was now looking pretty freakin' distressed at the presence of one of her tormenters. She had started shaking slightly, and dropped the book she was reading from down in her lap. 

Angry that this asshat had disturbed his sprite and made her scared, he turned back to Ron and growled lowly, “Get… out.”

“Merlin! Look at you, actin’ like some big, strong arsehole now. Just needed to spend a week or two with a slag for you to think you’re better than all of us, didn’t you?” Ron jeered. “Well, that’s just fine. Just wait ‘till we get back to school and I’ll show you two. You’re not as special as you think you are, Castiglione.” 

He spared a spiteful glance at Luna and snarled, “And _you_ can’t hide behind him forever. I know you both had something to do with ‘Mione’s death. I know you both had something to do with Ginny. People here think I’m dumb, but I’m not. Just you wait and see.”

Gently pushing Luna to the side so that he could get up, Harry gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. He slowly walked over to where Ron stood. 

Ron raised his eyebrows, almost daring Harry to do something to him so that they could have a fight on the train.

Harry twitched his fingers to erect a strong rune silencing spell around the two of them, as well as rune secrecy variation spell had taught to ensure that Ron couldn’t speak of anything they talked about. He leaned in to whisper, “Look, you fuckin’ douchebag, I just made sure that only the two of us can hear this conversation. But you’re just gonna listen, anyway, and keep your fuckin’ mouth shut. And, don’t worry, I also made sure that only the two of us will ever be able to talk about this. So don't even try running to that old goat fucker of a Headmaster to whine about me.”

He reached out and grabbed Ron’s robes and pulled him forward so their noses almost touched. “Guess what, you prick. You’re goddamned right I fuckin’ had something to do with all those deaths. I’ll kill everyone who ever fuckin’ did me wrong or does Luna any wrong. And that, asshole, includes _you_ ,” he spat. 

“Your days are fuckin’ numbered. I’m not a nice Lord or some shit, like you all assume. I’m not _genteel_ and well-fuckin’-bred. I’m your worst… _fuckin’_ …nightmare. You won’t know when I’m gonna hit. You won’t know where I’m gonna hit. And you sure as shit won’t know how. But, believe me, you shit-stain, I’m gonna hit you _hard_. So fuckin’ hard you’re not gonna come back from it.”

Ron’s eyes had grown wide and he was thrashing against Harry’s hold on his robes. His face had drained of color in fear, and he was stammering out protests at what Harry was saying. Ron attempted to raise his wand to fight him off, but his arm was quickly pinned behind his back.

“You afraid, weasel? I’m not. I’m not afraid of you sheep at all. I've seen things you've only seen in your nightmares. Things you can't even imagine. Afraid? You don't even know what afraid _is_. Remember that, when you’re walking the halls at night. Remember that, when you take a bite of food at dinner. Remember that, when you think you're _safe 'n sound_ in your bed at night. Think to yourself… is this the time I’m going to die? Because, you are...soon.”

He pushed Ron back out the door and snarled, “Now, stay the fuck away from Luna,” before slamming the compartment door on the terrified boy.

Breathing in a deep sigh and shaking his head ruefully at his loss of control, Harry turned to smile innocently at Luna. She sat there, wide eyed and gripping her book.

“You know, Scourge, you should really eat something. You get grumpy when you’re hungry. And threatening to kill people before you have planned it all out is not normal for you. You told him quite a bit, even with those spells in place. Yes, very unlike you. You might have low blood sugar. I brought some Oreos, if you want one.”

Harry shrugged and shot her a smirk. “Eh, maybe. I think I might have pulled a stitch or two. But it was totally worth it to put that fucker in his place. Did you see his face?” He chuckled and then narrowed his eyes at her. “Hey, you heard all that,” he exclaimed.

“Hmm, of course I did. You were talking out loud, silly.” She rolled her eyes and handed him one of her precious chocolate sandwich cookies out of her stash.

“About the rodent, we will have to watch him, though,” she mused. “He did make a point. He’s not completely ignorant of the situation. He’s able to think _and_ hurt, like the chimaera. He thinks with a head, lives in the body of the Lions and has the potential to sting like a scorpion. I know. I have felt the sting of his wand.”

Huffing out a sigh, Harry sat down and took up the brush again. He tapped it against his palm in thought. He hated remembering that Luna was hurt by those two assholes. At least _one of them_ was gone. “Well, we’ll just have to take care of him sooner, rather than later, my little Moon-sprite. And we’ll make sure to watch our backs until we come up with a decent plan.”

She nodded in agreement and took up her book again, tapping the hand holding her brush. He took the hint and started brushing.

_" **I** f only, if only_  
_**T** hings could always go our way_  
_**I** t could be even and fair_  
_**I** nstead of the fools making us pay_  
_**A** nd what friendship is ours_

_**I** f only, if only_  
_**W** e could just be_  
_**T** ogether forever_  
_**I** n perfect harmony_

_**I** f only, if only_  
_**Y** ou and I will never be lonely_  
_**H** opefully we'll stumble into each other's arms_  
_**I** f only, if only"_ (4)

Harry snorted at her poem, “Well that’s frickin’ depressing. Don’t worry, Moon, I’ll always find you, and we’ll never be lonely.”

She turned her glowing smile on him and said, “That sounds lovely, Scourge.”

**\----------**

**\--- Interlude (Part XI) – Training Room ---**

“You’re not payin’ attention, boy! Constant vigilance!!” Moody hollered as he and Ron flung curses toward Neville. “Focus! If you watch your feet and my wand, you’ll always know where I’m ‘bout to cast. There’s no excuse for failing this bad so late in the game. If this were a real fight, you’d be dead on the floor right now and Voldemort would have taken over the wizarding world.” He tapped his wooden leg on the ground to drive his point home. “Remember that! We’re all countin’ on _you_ to save us. With the Potter boy gone, you’re our only hope to get rid of the evil that’s taintin’ our world.”

Neville stood before Moody and Ron, panting in an attempt to regain his breath. He actually thought that the session was going fairly well… before his bubble was burst and he was told that he was _still_ a failure. Merlin, he didn’t want to do this anymore. It was more than he could shoulder. Why couldn’t’ some other kid be the ‘savior of the wizarding world’? He glanced up at the two others and gave a half-hearted shrug.

“I guess I’m just not feelin’ it today. Must be the fact that Hermione’s death is still sitting heavy on my memory. Or maybe it’s all these weird things that have been happening lately. It just seems like whatever we’re doing, something or someone is fighting against it. I never felt like that before, when you would warn me about You Know Who. This feels different…” Neville said, trailing off at the end to let out a sigh.

Moody squinted his ~~eyes~~ eye at him and declared, “Nonsense, it’s the same as it always has been. Evil working against the good. We’re the good. Out there’s the evil. You need to train up, boy, to get good at these spells. Mark my words, Voldemort will be back any day now and you’re gonna need to be ready!”

Neville gave a reluctant nod and then asked if he could be let go from the rest of the session. Moody agreed that it was probably time for the boys to head back to their common room.

Ron allowed Neville to proceed out the door without him, then he turned to Moody. “Mad Eye?” He asked, his voice laced with a fair amount of fear. He glanced around to see if anyone was watching or could overhear, but he saw no one.

“What is it Weasley? Spit it out. I haven’t got all night to waste on you lot,” Moody grumbled.

“Erm, well, I think we’ve got a real bloody problem on our hands. I know of some seriously dodgy goings on, some people who are very bad are here,” Ron whispered to the grizzled auror.

“Yes, there’re many wizards who fall into that category. What y’ on about, boy?”

Ron verified once again that no one was around. “Blimey! I’m telling you, Moody, I _know_ that there is someone in this school who is doing all of this stuff. Who has b..” Ron’s tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as he tried to speak more.

Moody narrowed his eyes at the youngest Weasley and said, “Well? Is that all you have to say?”

Huffing in frustration, Ron vehemently shook his head. “Merlin’s bollocks! I can’t say it… I try, but I can’t bloody talk about it to anyone.”

“Like you _want_ to and you can’t? Or like you feel like you can’t?” Moody asked as he scrutinized him.

Ron pulled an annoyed face, “I know what I want to say, I know what it’s about, _who_ it’s about. But every time I start to say anything, I get right chuffed that my whole body locks up and I can’t say anything.”

Moody grunted, “Sounds like a secrecy spell, is that what you’re tryin’ to say, boy?”

Ron tried to agree that was what happened, but of course he wasn’t able to actually make any words come out. His body froze as he tried to explain anything that had happened with the Castiglione kid. Nothing would happen and his body felt like it was shutting down. He desperately wanted to say what he knew, but he couldn’t. He just wanted to have Moody help him get this spell off.

Scanning Ron with his wand, Moody grumbled a bit under his breath. His eye roved around, trying to read anything around the boy. “You seem to have some strong magic on you, boy. I do not even know these spells. They’re not ones that I’ve seen in my work as an auror or with the Order. Strange. Not dark magic, even, just not wizarding magic.” 

He reached out and grabbed Ron’s robe sleeve and said, “We need to talk to the Headmaster, immediately.”

**\----------**

Albus dropped his head in his hand. The young Weasley and Moody had just left his office. He had _no_ idea what kind of magic was used on the Weasley boy. It was not anything that he had ever seen before. Moody and he spent at least an hour trying to de-spell the boy, attempting all of their usual _finite_ and even more powerful purging spells.

The young boy had information. _Vital_ information. However, he was unable to say anything. It was evident that he was terrified that something was going to happen. But how or why was beyond the two older men. There were no answers gotten from their session, and eventually they had to send him back to his common room with the suggestion that he maintain ‘constant vigilance’.

It was very strange. Very odd, and Albus did not like that foreign magic was happening in or around his school. He did _not_ like the fact that he wasn’t in charge.

**\----------**

**\--- January 28 th, 1998 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Hogwarts ---**

Harry had spent the better part of the month planning some epic ways to murder Ron and looking for the damned stone that might be the leech that Fuckledore was using in the school. So far, he had some decent ideas for Ron, but nothing to show for the search.

It was frustrating, to put it mildly.

Luna was spending the evening working with Severus on some potions, learning the different poisonous plants. Harry could tell that the more time they spent hanging out together, the more of a bad influence he had on her. She was turning into quite the bloodthirsty little sprite. And he fuckin’ _loved it!_

But none of that helped with finding out how the magic was being leeched from the occupants of Hogwarts. He had been communicating with Tom, who suggested different places to look. (With no success.) He had used the Marauder’s Map religiously, checking all the secret spots and hiding places.(*) (Again… nothing.)

Groaning in defeat, he sat himself on the top of the stairs near the 7th floor. He placed his head in his hands and sighed. Where the _fuck_ would that asshole hide that shit?

He reached down and grabbed his knife from his boot and flipped it open. Twirling it through his fingers and tossing it randomly in the air, he pondered where to look next. He pointed the tip of the knife at the floor and drew a long scratch along the stone…

_Childe, why do you hurt me so?_

Harry’s head snapped up at hearing the same voice from the greenhouses when he was looking for Luna. “Uh, hey. Sorry about that. Did you mean the knife?” He quickly put the knife back in his boot and looked around. “Where _are_ you?”

_All around you, young one._  
_I am Hogwarts._

With wide eyes, Harry looked around again to see if anyone else was around, playing a joke on him. Maybe Luna thought it would be funny. But no one was there. “You’re the school? You can _talk_?? Why have I never heard you before that day in the greenhouse? Do you only talk people when they are totally bummed out and trying to find something?”

_I have always looked out for my own, childe._  
_I will always look out for my own._  
_It has become harder with foreign magic forcing its way through my walls._  
_I am unable to communicate as well._

“Foreign magic? Do you know where it is coming from?” Harry excitedly asked. As odd as it sounded, the actual fuckin’ school might be able to steer him in the right direction to find the cancer that Dumblefuck had placed.

_I do._

Harry stood up from the stair and rolled his hand in front of him in an impatient gesture. “Can you tell me _where_? I really wanna help you out and get rid of whatever it is. We could work together.”

_You need to walk this hall._  
_Come to the middle, and pace thrice._  
_Think of what you desire._  
_A door will appear and you will be allowed entry._

He quickly bounded down the 7th floor hallway until he came to the wall the school (he still couldn’t believe that he was talking to the fuckin’ _school_ ) had told him to stop at. He considered what he ‘desired’ to find and walked back and forth three times. “I want to find how Dumblefuck is stealing the magic… I want to find how Fuckledore is stealing the magic… I want to find how Dumbleass is stealing the magic.”

Just as the school had told him, a door appeared in the wall. He didn’t know if he would ever stop being surprised by the things that magic could do. He opened the door and found an empty room with a large opaque stone in the middle. It pulsed with the same energy and slimy magic that came off of the Headmaster whenever Harry came in contact with him.

“Oh _fuck_ …” Harry breathed out in awe, “I found it!”

**\----------**

\--------------------  
 _Hey Tom,_

_Dude! I found it! It was in some freaky ass hidden room on the 7 th floor. OKAY, CAN WE JUST TALK FOR A SEC ABOUT THE FACT THAT THE SCHOOL FUCKIN’ TALKS?!? DID YOU KNOW THAT??? Anyway, it’s this weird, slimy, cloudy rock. About the size of a tire. (You know what a tire is, right? One of those things on a car… have you ever been in a car? Shit. Okay, about the size of Lucius’ head x 8 ~ish) Anyway, what do I do to it now? Can I just blow it up? I can blow it up real easy. But I don’t want to cause some freaky ass, reverse black hole of slimy magic to blow back on me. Like in Ghostbusters. Fuck, never mind that reference. But, still, let me know._

_~ The muthafuckin’ conqueror of weird ass magic stones!!!_  
\--------------------  
_Scourge,_

_Congratulations on finding the warding stone. I am very happy that Hogwarts chose to communicate with you. And yes, she communicates with her students. She cares for them quite a lot. We need to make the appropriate runes to counteract and nullify the warding stone. Please do not ‘blow it up’. I do not know of this ‘Ghostbusters’ that you speak, but it sounds horrific. Also, yes, you little miscreant, I have been in a vehicle before. And I do believe that with the size of his ego, only 6 of Lucius’ heads would fit in a tyre._

_\- Lord Voldemort_  
\--------------------  
_Tommy, Tommy, Tommy,_

_You’ve got jokes! This, right here, is why we get along. You're the straight up Dark Lord of Sass!! I’ll wait for you to get me the right rune sequence so I can take it out. Let me know. Also, Ghostbusters is a fuckin' classic. A must watch! “There is no Tom, only Zuul!!!” You can’t see me, but I’m laughing my ass off right now. Sigh, my jokes are lost on the masses._

_~ <3 The funnier than you’ll ever realize, Scourge_  
\--------------------  
_Scourge,_

_You are a very strange individual. I will send you the runes. Wait for my word before proceeding. Also, cease calling me ‘Tommy’ immediately._

_\- Lord Voldemort_  
\--------------------  
_Tom…my, my <3,_

_I love this plan! I'm excited to be a part of it! Let's do it! (Again, lost on those who have not experienced the glory that is Ghostbusters…)_

_~ Scourge_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *In this a/u, the Room of Requirement was not discovered by any of Marauders (since it never says specifically in the books that they did, but it is known that it would have been unplottable on the map anyway) or by Voldemort (because he doesn't have any of those silly horcrux thingies in this book so he didn't need to find a place to hide it)*
> 
> 1. Italian (Google Translate Version)  
> 2. German (Google Translate Version)  
> 3. "Red As Blood", _written by Gabi, age 9_ , retrieved from www.theguardian.com/books/booksblog/2015/feb/02/most-disturbing-childrens-poetry  
> 4. "Untitled Poem", _submitted by Carnegie1_ , retrieved from www.theguardian.com/books/booksblog/2015/feb/02/most-disturbing-childrens-poetry
> 
> Movies Quoted/Referenced:
> 
>   1. The Wizard of Oz (1939)
>   2. Beauty and the Beast (Disney Cartoon, 1991) 
>   3. Jumanji (1995)
>   4. Ghostbusters (1984)
> 

> 
> *Thank you Fuiniel for your help on the translations! I hope I got them right this time.*


	40. On a Ron-mantic Valentine’s Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville loves plants. Luna loves beetles. Ron hates spiders. Harry loves Birthdays _and_ Valentine's Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day - I got you murder and mayhem. (And bugs?) Also Happy (one day late) Birthday to the lovely, lyrical, lighthearted, lively, likable and lovable Luna Lovegood. (Born Feb. 13th, 1981) Thanks for the comments/kudos, as always. Enjoy! 💜 **Trigger Warnings** at the end of chapter.

**\--- Interlude (Part XI) – Severus’ Classroom ---**

Potions had just been released for the Gryffindors and Slytherins. Neville watched as his year mates walked through the door, purposefully hanging back from the crowd. He slowly packed his supplies into his messenger bag and waited until the class had completely emptied before he slowly approached the imposing Potions Professor.

“Professor Snape?” Neville asked timidly.

The dour professor turned from dealing with the cleanup of his classroom and focused his sharp gaze on the boy. “Yes, Mr. Longbottom, to what do I owe the honor of one of the Headmaster’s _favorite_ Gryffindors staying back to speak to me?”

Neville’s face bloomed with a deep red blush as Severus made his jeering remark. “Well, sir, If you wouldn’t mind erecting a silencing ward, I wanted to talk to you about my future?”

Severus raised one eyebrow and scrutinized the boy in front of him for a long moment. He waved his wand in a pointed gesture and silently erected the ward. “Your future, Mr. Longbottom? Are you sure? You seemed to make it into an inquiry instead of a statement. That is not the tone one would suspect to come from our future ‘savior’,” he replied with a slight sneer.

Ducking his head in embarrassment, Neville shuffled lightly from foot to foot. “That’s what I wanted to talk about, sir. I'm not sure I want to do this anymore. I don’t want to fight.”

Severus’ eyebrows rose in surprise at the boy’s statement. “And why, might I ask, are you bringing this information to _me_? Why not bring it to your esteemed leader, or even to your _own_ Head of House?”

Neville toed the floor while grasping tightly on the strap to his book bag. “They don’t listen to me. In fact, I’m pretty sure they don’t even _like_ me. You don’t really like me either, I know that, but I think you’ll at least listen. I listen to what you say in the Order of the Phoenix meetings. You tell people the truth, no matter how they react. I trust that about you, sir. I am not saying that I do not believe what the Headmaster has said about me being another fated child of the prophecy. I’m not saying that I don’t want to help him fight the dark wizards and even fight You Know Who, but I just do not know if I can do it like this anymore. I'm no one's savior.”

Narrowing his eyes in consideration, Severus looked down his nose at the Gryffindor and scoffed, “Fate!” He rolled his eyes in disgust at the lies that Dumbledore had fed this student.

“Yes, there _is_ such a thing as fate, but it only takes you so far in this world, Mr. Longbottom. Then it's up to you to make it happen. If you truly do not wish to fight in this war, you need to take control of your own _fate_ and choose. No one is going to hold your hand through this life.” He folded his hands in front of himself as he stood there observing the boy. “And you need to do your research. Do not trust blindly in people that they are telling you the whole story, or even the truth. You need to ensure that if you _do_ fight in this war, you are fighting for something that you are _informed about_ and _believe in_.”

“I know what we’re fighting for, Professor,” Neville rebutted quietly. His attempt to come off confident fell short.

“Do you?” Severus asked silkily. “Do you know why you, a seventeen-year-old _child_ , are the _only_ one who is tasked to take on Voldemort? Do you know why your _esteemed_ Headmaster is pushing for the downfall of some supposed _Dark Lord_? One that has yet to be seen again? One that, contrary to what our Headmaster has said, has not strewn murdered and mutilated bodies of light wizards throughout the wizarding world?” He shot a pointed look at Neville as he continued, “And just what do you intend to do with this spare time that you are planning to have when you are not training to fight against the ‘evil’ in this world?”

Neville paused for a moment, considering the questions that Severus had posed. “Um, I haven’t really given the ‘why’ a whole lot of thought. You Know Who is evil, though. He is the one who attacked my mum and dad and also killed the Potters. I know he’s evil. _Everyone_ knows he’s evil, sir. He’s the worst kind of wizard.” Clearing his throat, Neville glanced at Severus with trepidation. “You sound like you might be speaking like a dark wizard yourself, sir. Begging your pardon, of course. It was just the way you said all of that.”

Severus hummed in thought. He was not sure if he should continue to inform the Gryffindor of the amount of _sheer lies_ he had been told in his life. He didn’t know if he was authorized to say that the Longbottoms were tortured by the Headmaster in order for him to be able to mold young Longbottom into a prophecy child, to take Harry’s place. He didn’t know if he was able to let the Gryffindor in front of him know that his whole life had been based on lies and manipulation, just like so many who had come in contact with the Headmaster over the years. He would need to ensure that it was okay with his Lord before the child was better educated.

Continuing his explanation, Neville gained a bit of confidence. “Instead of fighting, I want to become a Herbologist. I have found plants interesting my whole life. They are comforting. I know I am not the best at potions, but that might be due to the fact that I am a little intimidated in class," he side eyed Severus a moment before saying, "and I have had poor luck with dealing with some of the other students ruining my potions.”

Pursing his lips, Severus nodded at the boy. He could see that someone with Neville’s disposition would work well with plants. The boy was not a fighter. He was not a warrior. He was someone who cultivates and keeps to himself. Dumbledore had done this child a great disservice when he forced him to follow his ways. It was yet another black mark on Dumbledore’s record regarding the way he thought about his students and this foolish ‘war’.

“As far as me being an ‘evil dark wizard’, you dunderheaded boy, I am nothing of the sort. You need to do your own research into what each side actually believes and follows before you bandy those accusations about. You need to look into the fact that there might not even _be_ sides. There might just be magic. But _you_ need to research that. I will not do that for you.” 

Severus glared at him for a moment before conceding, “And regarding your desire to study Herbology, I believe that you do have a point. I know that currently you are training for whatever the Headmaster has planned for the war. If… and this is a large _if_ , you show promise, I would be willing to cover for you in your studies. I would be willing to say that you and I are working on your defense, while you came to my classroom to instead study Herbology and potions. However, if you make me regret this even for one moment, I will make it my absolute mission to make the rest of your time at Hogwarts _miserable_.”

Neville bobbed his head up and down in agreement. “Yes sir! I understand. I would even be willing to actually train with you in defense. Training with Ron and Auror Moody has been very… disturbing. I do not feel as I am being trained to fight, more that I am being trained to withstand someone fighting me.”

Severus snorted inelegantly at the sadly too true words from the Gryffindor boy. “You are. But that is another issue that I am not willing to delve into at this time. I will discuss your training with the Headmaster. You will bring your own supplies. I will not be responsible for any tomfoolery or misconduct while I am assisting you in this endeavor. You will spend your time with me wisely. I will discuss your desires with Professor Sprout, as well, and we will create a syllabus for you to follow. She would be the one to eventually assist you further in the Herbology world.”

Neville and Severus ironed out the rest of the plans for the rest of the year so that he could further his education on plants, potions and Herbology, and potentially find someone to apprentice with. After discussing their plans, Neville left the classroom, his steps distinctively lighter.

Severus wondered if he did the right thing by saying that to the Gryffindor ‘hero’, but he wanted to stop this ridiculous _war propaganda_ sooner rather than later. Lord Voldemort was working harder and harder in the Ministry and Wizengamot. He was attempting to bring about true understanding on both sides of magic to witches and wizards. 

Not only that, but Severus could see a bit of Harry in Neville. True, the boy was nothing like him in the mercenary sense. However, if Harry _had_ grown up under the thumb of Dumbledore, Severus could see that Harry would have been brought up to be a pig to sacrifice. Severus had promised to look after Harry. He said he would save him. He wasn’t able to follow through with that promise, totally, but he _could_ help out the other ‘savior’. He was, after all, just telling him the truth and how he should look into it more himself. Yes, Severus did not consider telling the boy about certain ‘issues’ with the light side a bad thing. The boy needed to know. He needed to realize that the Headmaster did _not_ have his best interests in mind.

**\----------**

_(Again, lost on those who have not experienced the glory that is Ghostbusters…) ~ Scourge_

**\--- February 10 th, 1998 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Hogwarts Library ---**

Luna and Harry sat in the back corner of the library, pouring over different books regarding magical creatures. She was attempting to find some of her ‘animals’ in the books for Harry to see, and he was trying to find the right kind of animal to feed an asshole to.

“Okay, first of all, there’s some freaky ass creatures in the magical world, Luna-beam. What the fuck would anyone want a fuckin’ fire crab for??? It sounds like the worlds _worst_ STI!” Harry whispered harshly as he read about the crab shooting flames from its rear end.

Luna leaned over to glance at the entry before returning to her own research. She reached up to adjust her wand in her hair and whispered back, “They are wondrous creatures, Scourge. Their beauty is often stolen from them by those who only want to have a jeweled shell cauldron. It is sad how often animals are exploited for wizards to use their beauty.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at her as he took in her beetle wing earrings. “Uh, Moon, not to call you out on being hypocritical or anything, but you’re _actively wearing_ pieces of animal. And they’re beautiful! Don’t get me wrong. Fuckin’ prettiest beetle wing earrings I’ve ever seen. I’d get my ear pierced and wear one, but you know Frank. He’d probably shit a kitten or something.”

Snickering quietly, Luna fixed him with a humorous gaze. “Silly Scourge, these are wings donated through the BWDOFIB. I thought you _knew_ that!”

Mouthing ‘BWDOFIB’, Harry shook his head in slight confusion. “What the hell is that?”

“Why, the Beetle Wing Donation Organization for Injured Beetles, of course. I’m an Onyx level member. You should consider joining. I could put in a good word for you, if you would like.”

Harry’s eyes grew larger as her explanation went on. “Uh, I think I’m good? I’ll just support you from the background. You know, help with signs and shit. Maybe sit in on any protests? Or whatever the fuck you crazy kids get up to.” He glanced back down to the book in front of him and sighed. “I just haven’t figured out exactly _how_ our resident rodent is going to get exterminated, Moon. I’m stuck.”

She lifted her quill and tapped it against her lips, opening her mouth to say something.

Before she was able to speak, over by a shelf next to them a few books dropped to the ground. Harry turned quickly to see if there was any potential danger, but he only spotted Neville picking up the books he dropped. Harry got up and walked over to help the boy.

Remembering to act and speak in his Castiglione guise, Harry said, “Hi Neville. Let me help you with all of those.” He looked at the books as he picked them up, and all of them were on various plants and their uses in the magical world. “Wow, I didn’t know that you were this into Herbology, Neville. Very neat!”

Neville’s cheeks warmed with a slight blush as he glanced from Harry to Luna. “I’m looking into something a little different, yes. What are you two studying?”

Luna sent him a calm smile and said, “I’m showing Henry my favorite animals from Care of Magical Creatures. He thinks the Flobberworm is the best, with the Acromantula as a close second. I’m partial to the Pygmy Puff.”

Harry fuckin’ loved that Luna could fall into character just as easily as he could.

Nodding, Neville gave an uncomfortable chuckle. “At least neither of you said that Acromantulas were your favorite around Ron. Merlin, he hates those things! Spiders are his biggest fear. One day I might…” He stopped himself abruptly and his eyes widened. Harry thought that Neville might have been about to say something bad against Ron (because he was a ‘proper git’ according to Luna) and then he stopped. 

“Ah, well, no spiders here. Just worms and Pygmy Puffs,” Harry said with a genial smile while spreading his arms wide in an innocent pose. 

Neville bobbed his head up and down nervously, looking around as if he was going to get in trouble for even mentioning Ron’s name. Fuck, that bully had certainly done a number on his supposed ‘friend’.

“I guess I’ll just check these books out through Madam Pince now. Catch you later Luna, Henry.”

After he walked up to the librarian, Harry sat down in his chair again and met Luna’s knowing gaze. “Hmm, fucker hates spiders? We can use that, dearest sprite. Can’t we?”

**\----------**

_(Miyagi) 19:15_

> what are you getting your girl for VD 

_(Scourge) 19:16_

> (◔_◔) 

_(Scourge) 19:16_

> not my grl but smthn real gud 

_(Scourge) 19:17_

> her bday is th 13th soooo

_(Scourge) 19:17_

> prolly a (x_x) rodent

_(Miyagi) 19:19_

> put in some effort girls like that shit 

_(Scourge) 19:21_

> ya ya shell like it 

_(Miyagi) 19:22_

> ok good wear protection

_(Scourge) 19:23_

> wtf frank!!! 

_(Miyagi) 19:25_

> guns knives kevlar

_(Miyagi) 19:26_

> you know protection? 

_(Scourge) 19:26_

> lol oh

_(Miyagi) 19:29_

> what did you think?

_(Scourge) 19:30_

> nothin shut up 

_(Miyagi) 19:31_

> ok well have fun kid 

_(Scourge) 19:31_

> thx frank i will

_(Miyagi) 19:32_

> also remember condoms im not ready to be a grandpa 

_(Scourge) 19:33_

> o..m..g.. 

_(Scourge) 19:33_

> (－‸ლ)

_(Miyagi) 19:35_

> ♪┏(・o･)┛♪┗ ( ･o･) ┓♪

_(Miyagi) 19:35_

> look im cool too

_(Scourge) 19:36_

> yea frank ur cool - 2 cool 4 skool

**\----------**

**\--- Past Curfew on February 13 th, 1998 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Forbidden Forest ---**

It took a little planning on everyone’s part to get this Birthday/Valentine’s Day present together. 

Remus and Fenrir promised to try and talk to the Acromantulas so that they would be ready for Harry, Luna and Ron. Fenrir even offered to bring some of the pack again, but Harry said they should be good with just the spiders. He did invite the two men to watch, if they wanted. Fenrir decided it was best to just let the kids get up to their own devices… besides, he said, Valentine’s Day was for couples and four’s a crowd. Harry rolled his eyes as he read that portion of the owl.

Sirius, ever the romantic (?) at heart, was instrumental in getting Luna’s gift together. He told Harry about the best way to play a prank on someone to get them out of their bed in their common room and floating over the Black Lake. Harry took the same principles and applied them to Ron.

He watched the Gryffindor portrait the night before, under invisibility, so that he could learn the password, just in case there wasn’t someone to follow into the tower. It worked that he didn’t need it, however, since the Gryffindor prefect was ending his rounds later than normal and Harry was able to just follow behind him up to their rooms. 

It was interesting to watch the boisterous byplay in the Gryffindor common room. They were louder, and more relaxed than the Slytherins. Harry figured, if he hadn’t grown up as he did… if he wasn’t completely hell bent on being a loner and murdering all the people who did him wrong, he probably would have fit in here. They actually seemed kinda fun. Well, some of them. Ron was still an asshole. And his friends, Seamus and Dean, seemed like dicks too. But some of the others didn’t seem so bad.

Either way, Harry was there for a reason. As soon as people started going to their beds for the night, he followed Ron up to their room. He ensured that there were no witnesses, no one could see them and used Sirius’ tried and true method to make it look like Ron was still there… when he wasn’t.

He floated the immobilized and silent body of Ron out of the tower and through the school’s secret passageways then out to the Forbidden Forest. Luna, the crazy imp, had promised to meet him near the colony of Acromantulas. She had been told a little about his plans, but Harry mostly wanted her to enjoy herself so he was going to play the evening by ear.

Harry had set up a transfigured couch in front of a tree in the forest. He bound Ron to the tree, just like how he had found Luna. While he set up for the ‘discussion’ with Ron, Luna set up for their Valentine’s Day celebration. He glanced over to where she was humming something and snickered.

Apparently his crazy best friend had brought along a basket of random treats, a tablecloth… a fuckin’ transfigured table with a goddamned candle in the middle, and finally, some Dr. Pepper. (She _must_ have gotten ahold of Frank or Wade to get this sent by Tom. Harry was just happy that he wasn’t gonna have to enjoy this whole session drinking some pumpkin juice or some other wizarding world shit.) This must have been her present to him. At least the Dr. Pepper was going to be awesome after they worked up a little thirst.

“Moon?” Harry asked as he finished trussing the immobilized boy up on the tree. He was conscious and his eyes were darting back and forth in apparent fear. Harry ignored him in while he set up everything, and talked to Luna instead.

“Hmm? Yes, Scourge?”

“Ah, what’s with the fuckin’ candle?” He asked as he scratched the back of his head.

Luna blinked dazedly at him and smiled serenely. “It’s for ambiance, silly. It's very romantic. I was going to bring fairy lights, but I don't like how they are treated. Also, according to all of my research, one candle is the most popular for a romantic meal. I heard about it in Lady and the Tramp over Christmas break, and I wanted to try it out.”

Harry curled up one lip in disgust. “I’m not eating regurgitated spaghetti, Luna, if you're planning on doing that part of the movie where we both eat the same bite. That’s just plain disgusting.” He wrinkled his nose and shook his head side to side, thoroughly grossed out by the idea. Another horrific thought passed through his head as well. Hopefully she hadn’t tried to make pizza either.

“Silly Scourge, always worried about the strangest things. Of course, I didn’t pack spaghetti. It’s Oreos!”

Harry snorted as he walked over to see what else she had packed for their treats. Ron, unable to move at all, was making choking and muffled scream noises. Luna glanced over at him and shook her head, “No, I am sorry, Mr. Weasel. You are not invited to our dinner… well, you _are_ , but I do believe you might _be_ dinner.”

At that statement, Harry tipped his head back and cackled. He shook his head at the ridiculous little girl next to him and said, “Fuckin’ right he will be. You ready to have some fun?”

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug. “Yep! You give the best presents, Scourge! I can’t wait.”

Harry erected a silencing spell around the three of them and stepped back. He made sure that Luna had her wand drawn and he was ready to attack just incase things went array. He released Ron from his immobilization, who immediately began to scream bloody murder… literally.

“Merlin’s arsehole!! You two are barmy!! Get me down from here! I’ll tell everyone, I will. I’ll let them all know how bleedin’ insane you two are. How you got me out of my bed! How you’re insane nutters and murderers! Get… me… down!!”

Luna tapped the tip of her wand to her lips and met Harry’s eyes for a moment before looking back at Ron. “No. Fuck you.”

Ron’s eyes boggled out of his head at her and he sneered at them both. “So what? Are you a coupl’a Death Eaters? Evil wizards? Dark? I bet you work for V..Vol…You Know Who and are just takin’ out the good wizards in this world!!”

Luna crinkled her forehead in concern before turning to Harry. “Are we Death Eaters? I didn’t get a mask, if we are. Should I ask for that? I want a blue one. Maybe I’ll get the mask _and_ the blue sparkly shoes!”

Harry, probably the only person on the planet who could actually understand Luna’s rambling thoughts at this point, patted her on the shoulder and said, “We’ll see, sprite. Now, focus. Our guest is waiting, and our other guests are probably pretty hungry for our Valentine’s Day feast.” 

Even though he had seen silencing ward being erected, Ron still attempted to scream for help, for someone to come save him. He kept yelling at the two of them that this wasn’t fair! He was just following directions. It wasn’t fair that _he_ was the one who was being picked on just because he was doing the _right_ thing. 

“Fair?” Harry asked Luna incredulously. He turned to face Ron and sneered, “Fairness would be to rip your insides out and hang you from a tree… like how you tried to kill _my best friend_ , you asshole. Fairness would be to let you rot out here, never letting your friends or family know what happened. Luckily for you, we’re nicer than that! We’ll make sure they know everything.” He nudged Luna’s shoulder and smiled, “Won’t we Luna-beam?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes. We would never let anyone be lost for hours on end while their loved ones searched high and low for them.” She giggled a little then continued, “We’re nicer than that, right Scourge?”

“Merlin! Look, I’m sorry ‘bout all that, Loony. I was just doin’ what I was told.”

Harry growled at his use of ‘Loony’ and said, “Her name’s fuckin’ Luna! Why can’t you jerks get that??”

Ron cried out as Harry threw one of his knives into his thigh. He then pulled it back out slowly while giving a twist. 

Luna considered the bleeding boy for a moment and then cast her own _Diffindo_ , cutting down Ron’s arm. She looked over at Harry and smiled, “This is very cleansing, Scourge. Not as fun as poker, but still a lovely present.”

Harry snickered, then paid attention to the blubbering boy stuck to the tree. He had a little blood seeping out of his thigh and more running down his arm from Luna. He was crying out apologies to both of them for whatever he could think of.

Luna wrinkled her nose and sing-songed, “Well, ‘sorry’ doesn’t put the Oreo biscuits in my stomach, now does it, Ron??”

This actually caused Ron to stop his crying for a moment as a look of confusion crossed his face. “What’re you on about? Oreo biscuits?? GET ME OFF ‘O HERE!!! I’ll leave you alone! Merlin!! Please let me down. We don’t ever have to talk about…”

As he was screaming, Harry and Luna heard the loud clacking of their other guests coming from behind them. Harry turned a vicious grin toward Ron and said, “Ah, there're the other guests to the Valentine’s Day party now. Luna, sweet, why don’t you cut our ‘friend’ Ron here a couple more times to whet the appetite of those we’ve invited to the feast.”

Luna grinned and cast a few more cutting curses at Ron, through his screams and crying. Harry leaned back against a tree and watched his sprite, who had grown into such a bloodthirsty little girl. He was so proud. Like a mama bear watching a cub fight off an intruder… except the intruder was trussed up to a tree and screaming bloody murder about the horrible unfairness of everything. He snorted to himself, just wait until the spiders got there.

“Luna,” Harry interrupted after she had cut up his legs and arms, “we need to sit and get ready for our night’s entertainment.”

She smiled at him and waltzed over to the couch where he joined her. She handed him an Oreo and he let her lean into his side. They watched as the Acromantulas swarmed into the clearing.

Ron started shaking in fear, his face drained of all color. His screams intensified as he watched the huge spider-like beasts gather around him. They clacked their jaws and whispered amongst themselves “Food…food…food…feast…eat…food…”

Their leader, Aragog, first walked over to the ‘couch’ and said, “I have brought my children for the gift the wolf said we were to get. In exchange, as I told him, we will side with you in your quest to cleanse this place of bad magic. We will grant one favor for this gift. Use it wisely, young wizard.”

Harry stood from the couch and bowed to the humongous spider, “I appreciate your gift, Aragog. I will make sure to use it wisely.” He gestured to the Gryffindor attached to the tree. “Please, enjoy _your_ gift. And we appreciate your help.”

Aragog’s giant head seemed to nod in understanding. He clacked out a rhythmic noise and the other Acromantulas in the clearing clacked back. Suddenly, they advanced on the whimpering boy, who had unfortunately wet himself at this point.

Luna and Harry watched as the giant, carnivorous beasts began to tear and feast on the weasel. Winding her arm through his, Luna giggled and recited one of her poems,

_**T** hey always told me to be afraid_  
_**o** f the monsters that lay under my bed._

_**Y** ears and years I spent terrified,_  
_**t** oo afraid to walk outside,_  
_**t** oo afraid to live my life._

_**“ Monsters! Monsters!”** they told me,_  
_**B** e afraid of the monsters!_

_**T** hey’ll watch as you teeter the edges of insanity,_  
_**t** hey’ll laugh as you fall into the abyss of despair._  
_**T** hey’ll creep closer when you’ve stumbled to never get back up,_  
_**t** hey’ll come to take you when you’ve finally lost all hope._

_**“ Monster! Monsters!” **they told me,_  
_**T** hey’re everywhere!_

_**I** searched in the shadows,_  
_**I** ripped through the closets,_  
_**I** tore down the walls,_  
_**I** looked under beds,_  
_**Y** et never could I find the creatures that made my tears shed!_

_**W** here?_  
_**W** here are the beasts of the night?_  
_**T** he ones that haunt me with their deviled flight!_

_**A** nd finally one day,_  
_**B** ut only years and years later,_  
_**I** finally understood._  
_**A** fter never knowing where my monsters lay,_  
_**I** found I could see right through their big display._  
_**R** ight in front of me screaming,_  
_**“ Monsters! Monsters!”** as they giggled and crowed_  
_**t** he terrible creatures had finally showed._  
_**U** gly and foul,_  
_**s** miling at me as they told me to be afraid._

_**T** here were never any monsters._  
_**T** here was only just us._  
_**I** t had always been just us._  
_**A** nd when I finally got up…_  
_**I** smiled._

_**T** hen with them we walked to another young child._  
_**A** ll alone and afraid,_  
_**I** sat down next to him whispering as soft as I could …_

_**“ Monsters! Monsters!”** I said,_  
_**E** verywhere there are monsters!_

_**L** aughing I saw the fear creep into his eyes._  
_**I** watched as the horror began,_  
_**a** nd even as we crowed joyfully I yelled to him:_

_*… **a** lways be afraid of the monsters…_(1)

Harry smiled at her and snuck a cookie from her stash. He gave her temple a quick kiss before munching on the cookie and watching another weasel die a gruesome death. “Well, my Moonbeam, that’s three down and only two to go for our rodent infestation. My list is dwindling down fast.”

“Yes, Scourge, and what a wonderful Valentine’s Day present it is for both of us, don’t you agree?”

Watching the last of the boy being torn apart, Harry thought of his plan to complete his list. It was going to happen soon. Dumblefuck’s time was seriously running out. 

Aragog ambled over to their couch and said, “My children, thank you again for this gift. We will take our leave. Come see us when you need us again, young wizard.”

Luna smiled at him, “Thank you, Aragog. You’ve been most lovely as a dinner guest. You are welcome to all our future holiday celebrations.”

Harry shot her a disbelieving glance, but he quickly schooled his face to a genial expression. “Yep, you’ve been awesome! We’ll make sure the rest of this is cleaned up and I’ll get with you if anything else is needed. Thanks again!”

The giant spiders slowly left the clearing, happy with their evening feast. Luna stood by Harry and watched them leave. She wrapped her arm around his waist and sighed, “Thank you for ridding me of my Nargles, Scourge. You are the best friend a girl could ever ask for.”

Harry pulled her in tight and kissed the crown of her head while whispering, "Happy Birthday _and_ Valentine's Day, Luna-beam. Hope you enjoyed your present. I got you somethin' else too, though."

She smiled radiantly and held out her hand in excitement. "What is it??"

Chuckling lightly, Harry dropped a small package into her hand. She quickly tore it open. (Apparently having learned from the great wrapping paper debacle of Christmas 1997 that it was better to just tear the shit.) Letting out a gasp of delight, she reached in the box and pulled out a long gold chain with a tiny beetle charm hanging from it.

"Oh! I love it Scourge!"

He took the necklace from her and helped her put it on, kissing her cheek after he secured the clasp. "And, I have it on good authority that this beetle charm was made by free gold-sprites from gold that was voluntarily donated from streams in a wooded area near a reserve for free range Flibling Wibblebibbles... just sayin', BWDOFIB would probably approve."

Luna giggled and smacked his arm lightly. "Now you're just being silly."

**\----------**

The next morning, the curtains of Ron Weasley’s bed were still shut as the other boys in the dorm milled about, getting ready for their day. Neville finally decided that he better do the right thing and get Ron up and moving. He tapped on the side of the bed and called out to the other boy, but there was no answer. 

Finally, Seamus and Dean also came over, intending to prank their friend to get him out of the bed with an _Aguamenti_. They all pulled the curtains back, two of the boys with their wands ready. Unfortunately, they were met with the smell of dead flesh and the gruesome sight of the decapitated head of Ron Weasley sitting up on his pillow. There was nothing else of his body in sight, merely a head with a bloodied face frozen in horror.

The three boys immediately turned to the side of the bed and lost their respective stomach contents. Screams of terror filled the common room as the boys ran through to get their Head of House. The others in the tower began to cry and weep over the horrific death of one of their own.

As the news swept through the school, Dumbledore felt the pit of dread in his stomach grow. This was going to cause even more issues for them. He popped another lemon drop into his mouth and tented his fingers in front of his chin in thought. No, this was very, very bad indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warnings:** canon typical spell violence, knife violence, description of blood, torture, death of character through carnivorous animals.
> 
> 1. "Monsters", poem by Kelsi Herring. _Jan 2014_ Retrieved from www.hellopoetry.com/words/monsters (Changed final pronoun 'her' to 'him')
> 
> Movies Quoted/Referenced:
> 
>   1. Can't Hardly Wait (1998)
>   2. Lady and the Tramp (Disney Cartoon- 1955)
>   3. Scream (1996)
>   4. Billy Madison (1995)
> 



	41. On New Allies and Captain Planet's Runes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry needs to lock his door. Tom's letters are the best. And, with their powers combined, five of them can make up Captain Planet... not really, but it sounded cool to Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but all of Texas is without power… Or it seems like it. I haven’t had power or heat for three days and cell service is intermittent. But I was able to post this, so I hope you enjoy. I don’t know the next time I’ll be able to post. I hope everyone is staying warm. Good luck and make sure you keep your animals inside! 
> 
> Also, I love any chapter that Wade pops up in. He makes my life so much better. Also, as always, 💜 the kudos/comments. Thank you! **Trigger Warnings** at end of chapter.

_No, this was very, very bad indeed._

**\--- February 14 th, 1998 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Harry’s Slytherin Dorm Room ---**

Harry dashed into his rooms, feeling that he had avoided any unnecessary scrutiny from any of his year mates. He could have gone invisible, but that would have brought forth more questions when he suddenly appeared in among the Slytherins. He quickly glanced around, seeing no one, and started to unpack all his weapons. What a good feeling it was to be over and done with most of the weasels. Sigh, now he only really had the mother to contend with and then the end game. How _fun!_

He hadn’t been too sure about this long trap for all these assholes, but the benefits were far outweighing the costs. He threw down his handguns on the bed and started to unstrap his knives when he heard a gasp come from the door.

He quickly spun and, with the knife he had in his hand, drove it through the sleeve of the person who had walked in, sticking them to the doorway. He held his other knife ready as he groped quickly for his gun.

Theo stood at the door, wand arm stuck to the door frame, face pale as he took in the fact that he had just been attacked, the sheer amount of ‘muggle’ weapons on Harry’s bed and the fact that there was blood on his robes… in Harry’s defense it was only a _little_ blood. Nothing he considered that anyone should be really squeamish about. He guessed that some people's stomachs just couldn't handle it.

“W..wha,” Theo stuttered, “What are all those, Castiglione?” He attempted to pull his sleeve from the door frame, but eventually had to jerk and rip his robes. He held his wand tightly as he stood there, probably unsure if he should run to get help or stay and fight.

 _Fuck_. Harry liked Theo. He didn’t want to kill the kid just because he walked in when Harry wasn’t paying attention. He reached toward his pocket instead of grabbing a gun, slowly, to get his wand. He wasn’t good at the _Obliviate_ spell, but he could probably do his best. Hopefully he wouldn’t erase the kid’s entire memories. (*Crossing fingers*) Maybe he should just call Sev up here to fix this mess. _Fuck, shit, fuckity fuck!_

“Ah, heeey there Theo. How’s it goin?” Harry asked innocently as he fingered his wand. 

Theo, obviously not accepting that there was nothing going on here, fixed a determined look on his face. (Albeit a petrified one, if the paleness was any indication.)

“What are you doing, Henry? Where have you been?? I’ve been looking for you to come down for breakfast. And why the _bloody hell_ did you throw a knife at me? And why is there _blood_ on you? And what are all those… are those _muggle weapons_ on your bed??” Theo asked in a rush, his voice rising as he got further into his questioning.

Harry raised the hand without the knife in it, showing that he didn’t have a wand, hoping to placate the other Slytherin. “Dude, look, uh… shit. I actually have no idea what to say here.”

Theo raised an incredulous eyebrow before casting a _Reparao_ on his sleeve. “Did you just refer to me as ‘dude’?”

Hanging his head in frustration, Harry opened his mouth to try to explain. Just then, both of them heard a distinct throat clearing coming from Harry’s bed.

Harry whirled around, ready again to throw his knife, only to face the sight of his brother in red, Wade fuckin’ Wilson. _Ah! Goddamnit!!!_ This situation was getting shittier and shittier.

Theo’s eyes had widened to saucers and his wand was held at the ready. Either ready to curse Harry or ready to curse Wade was still up in the air. Harry, on the other hand, just had the sinking feeling in his gut that this was not going to end well for anyone. Maybe he should have paid more attention to the _Obliviate_ spell… or maybe Theo was cool with not remembering anything from the past six years or so, just in case Harry _did_ fuck up the spell. Shit.

“Well, well, well Bitty Baby Scourge. Isn’t he one nice, tall drink of water. Tres sexy. And you room with him? Ooooh, is this one of those slash fanfics where you get a rare pair?? Fuck yeah! The author is _finally_ coming through with some interesting smut! I, for one, have thought that it is way past time,” Wade exclaimed from his position on the bed. He was laid out, propping up his head on his hand and one knee bent, like the fuckin’ chick off of the Titanic or some shit.

He ran his free hand down the front of his suit in what Harry assumed was his attempt to be ‘seductive’. It just came off a bit creepy with the mask and the katanas strapped to his back. A little _too_ BDSM. 

“Don’t mind me. You two just continue on with whatever was going to happen. I’ll just be over here. No, wait,” Wade said as he glanced at the room’s ceiling. “Hey, author! Can you write me in some popcorn or some shit?”

Theo’s mouth had dropped open in absolute shock and Harry was just wishing upon any deity that happened to _actually_ exist that the floor would swallow him whole. Now he had _two_ absolutely improbable/impossible things to erase from poor Theo’s memory. This would definitely take Sev’s deft hand.

Spluttering a bit and dropping his wand from aiming at the both of them, probably due to the fact that he had no fuckin’ clue what was going on, Theo muttered, “Who the bloody hell is that? And what, no how… wait, ‘Scourge’?” He jerked his gaze over at Wade again before exclaiming, “What are you _wearing_?”

Wade made his mask wink at Theo, “Oh, is _this_ how we’re starting? I’ll bite. La Perla… and you?”

Harry quickly intervened before this whole situation went even further downhill. “Theo, buddy, uh, come in and shut the door. Yeah? I, uh… _fuck_ , Tom’s gonna kill me. No… _Frank’s_ gonna kill me,” he mumbled. Looking up at Theo, he steeled himself. “Okay, so this is Wade. He’s my friend. Uh, the weapons are… weapons. The blood, well, that’s blood, I guess. And,” he slowly started to raise his wand at Theo, “I’m super fuckin’ sorry about this…”

Theo’s eyes widened again, and he backed away, quickly raising his wand at Harry.

But, before either of them could get a spell off, Wade interrupted again. “Hey, so I know you guys are about to fight with all your cool magic spells and sticks, but I might have a suggestion.”

Both of the boys turned to face Wade as he continued, “Why not just tell Theo? I mean he seems all cool from the other fics I’ve read. He’s not the worst of the lot. Seems to enjoy a decent plot. I think he was even your boyfriend a couple times, or maybe that was Draco, or Charlie Weasley? Or was it husbands? Can you guys even do that in this world? I seem to remember... aw crap, all the plot lines seem to smush together into one trope. Either way, he seems chill. Besides, the author likes him, or she wouldn’t have written him in.”

“Wade, you asshole, shut the fuck _up_! First of all, I have no clue what you’re talking about. How did you even get here? Never mind, it’s probably some ridiculous explanation that no one will understand. And I can’t just _tell_ everyone what the fuck is going on. That’s too frickin’ dangerous.”

Theo tentatively stepped further into the room, making it obvious that he was not going to attack Harry right then. Harry kept his free hand ready to throw up a shield, just in case. If worse came to worse, he had his knife, his wandless magic and he was pretty quick on the draw. Besides, Wade always had his back.

Clearing his throat, Theo asked quietly, “What are you two talking about? You're gay? I thought you were with Lovegood. And, tell me what?” He glanced quickly at Wade and shook his head, “Also, I think for right now I’m just going to listen to Henry. You seem quite barmy and I think I’ll get better answers from him.” He looked over at Harry and asked under his breath so that only Harry could hear him, “What is ‘La Perla’?”

Harry snorted at the ridiculousness of it all. “Dude, fuck if I know. Sounds French. Maybe some boxers or some shit. Pretty sure they're not weapons, but you never fuckin’ know with Wade. I ignore most of what he says anyway. It saves your brain from exploding. I mean… ‘author’? Really? But, right, not gay, that I know of. No real preference, if you're asking. It's pretty much whatever. Luna's a friend. A real fuckin' _good_ friend. And, he did make one good point. Uh, I guess I could, like, swear you in?”

“On my magic?” Theo asked, shocked at the idea.

Fiddling with the knife in his hand, Harry shrugged. “Well, I sure as shit don’t want to _kill_ you, and it’s not a bad idea to have a little more help on my side, I guess.”

“You don’t want to kill… Merlin, you’re bloody serious, aren’t you? You’re the one behind all of this. You’ve been working from inside the school to _kill_ students and professors?? Why?” Theo questioned, looking like he had just been hit by a mac truck of pure shock.

“Weelll,” Harry said in a drawn out drawl.

Wade popped back in the conversation then. “Theo, Theopholous, Theomeister, my main man, Theosopholophogous, just make the vow. It’ll be worth it. Blood’s a bitch to clean out of this type of floor. I know… for that matter, so does Scourge. Neither one of us has the time to clean right now, you wanted to go to breakfast. Besides, then we’d have to hide a body, someone would get frustrated that you didn’t show up for classes, there would probably be some sort of investigation, we’d have to kill _more_ people. You can see how it would just snowball from there. Just do your little lifty wandy thing and make the vow. Then, if the author would write in some damn popcorn, we could sit around and chat about all the cool shit that Scourge and I get up to!”

Theo observed both of them dubiously for a long moment. He probably had a million things going through his head, but Harry fuckin’ _hoped_ that he just made the vow so that he didn’t have to force some magic on him. He _liked_ Theo. He wanted this to be his choice.

Apparently, the gods of Harry Potter’s universe, or maybe Wade’s, or, fuck, maybe the ‘author’ decided that Theo should go ahead and make the vow, because he slowly lifted his wand in the air and swore that he would not tell a soul what he learned from the two of them in the room that day.

Theo sat down with them and learned the bare bones of the plot. (Just the need-to-know shit. Harry wasn’t stupid enough to tell him _everything_.) He was officially introduced to Harry Potter. Sat there, confused because he still had no fuckin’ clue as to how Wade got into their dorm rooms. (Neither did Harry, for that matter.) Learned about the thefts. Learned about the Headmaster. (He didn’t seem all that surprised.) Was told about the magic leech. (And got _pissed_.) And, eventually, against all odds, from the looks of the whole situation at the beginning, decided to help Harry where he could. 

“So, you’ve been doing this for almost two years?” Theo asked after most of the explanation had happened. 

Harry picked at the sole of his boot with his knife as sat on the bed next to Wade. He hummed in affirmation. Wade ruffled Harry’s hair and said proudly, “Scourgie Wourgie has been working hard from the inside. We’re all _so_ proud.” He reached over and wrapped his arms around Harry in a tight hug.

“Get off, asshole! Shit!” Harry grunted while pushing Wade off of him. He drew in a deep breath and peered sideways at Theo, “You’re cool with all this, right? I mean, you obviously can’t tell anyone, but, like, we cool?”

Theo snorted, “Merlin, you're something else. Sure, ‘we cool’, if that means I'm only having a slight panic attack and will take a few days to calm down. We cool.”

Harry smirked “Yeah, we cool. Two things. Don't tell nobody about this. This shit is between me, you, and Wade. Two: don’t treat me any differently than you did when I was Henry Castiglione. I just need a couple more months, then I’m done with this shit. A couple more months, then he’s out of everyone’s life. Oh, and Professor Snape knows who I am, so if you need to chat, I’ll give him a heads up that you know.”

Wade snickered at Harry and waggled his mask ‘brows’. “You know, that line from Pulp Fiction would fit _perfectly_ if you two _did_ decide to do some sort of slash fanfic.”

Harry punched him in the shoulder and told him to shut the fuck up. Theo just sat there bewildered, probably regretting the fact that he was now involved with the two of them.

**\----------**

_(Scourge) 08:31_

> prmse not 2 h8 me 

_(Miyagi) 08:37_

> youre my kid i dont hate you

_(Scourge) 08:38_

> yeaaaaahhh 

_(Scourge) 08:38_

> i got found out

_(Miyagi) 08:38_

> wtf kid! i fuckin taught you better than that!

_(Miyagi) 08:39_

> wtf is this day 3 of training??

_(Scourge) 08:40_

> i kno i kno im sorry 

_(Scourge) 08:40_

> it wasnt my fault i swear 2 god 

_(Miyagi) 08:42_

> sigh who was it? 

_(Scourge) 08:42_

> my room m8

_(Miyagi) 08:43_

> well at least it wasnt an adult 

_(Miyagi) 08:43_

> he still alive? 

_(Scourge) 08:46_

> lol ya he swore on his magic 2 keep secrt

_(Miyagi) 08:47_

> kk fuck kid be more careful! 

_(Miyagi) 08:47_

> you never know who will be watching or when

_(Scourge) 08:49_

> i kno im sorry

_(Miyagi) 08:49_

> its fine as long as youre safe

_(Miyagi) 08:50_

> does tom know? 

_(Scourge) 08:54_

> uh

_(Miyagi) 08:55_

> you have told him right?

_(Scourge) 08:57_

> cant u do it 

_(Miyagi) 08:57_

> kid you got caught – you tell the guy

_(Scourge) 08:58_

> hes gona b pissd

_(Miyagi) 08:59_

> you know what that sounds like? not my problem

_(Scourge) 08:59_

> u kno somethin u suck!

_(Miyagi) 09:00_

> you know something? youre late for class

_(Scourge) 09:01_

> fuk ttyl

_(Miyagi) 09:01_

> stay safe kid

_(Scourge) 09:04_

> l8r frank

**\----------**

\--------------------  
_Benevolent Lord Voldemort, Sir,_

_Remember how you love me? How you think I’m the cat’s pajamas? How you would never let me come to harm?? How you swore on your magic that I wouldn’t come to any harm? But seriously… remember that, please, when I tell you this shit._

_So, Wade might have shown up here. ( Still don’t know how that happened, and he spent the whole time talking about La Perla anyway – which I learned was lingerie?? Did you know that? Shit, I need to get out more!) Anyways, Wade showed up here. I might have been a little bloody from slightly stabbing someone and dealing with a corpse. (Well, decapitated head. Tomato, tomahto.) _

_Okay, the vein in your forehead is probably seriously throbbing right now and you’re probably ready to throw a Crucio at me for not getting to the point. Uh, welp, I guess I have someone new on my side? He’s chill. He seems to be taking this whole mass murder thing in stride. (Is that a Slytherin trait or something? It’s a pretty awesome one, if so.) But he said he’d help out if we need him to._

_Well, that’s my update. Hope you are well. Hugs and kisses to Lucy and Nagini!_

_~ Scourge_

\--------------------  
_Scourge,_

_Contrary to what you probably believe, that owl told me absolutely nothing about what had occurred. What happened with Mr. Deadpool? Are you injured? Who did you ‘slightly stab’? Who is your new ally? And finally, why in Merlin’s name are you bringing up ladies’ undergarments in communiques with me? Is this relevant to our plans?_

_I must ask that you respond immediately to this owl with a definite answer to those questions. Please do not ‘beat around the bush’, as it were. I would like to know who this new piece is in our little game._

_Impatiently (almost to the point of Crucio),_

_\- Lord Voldemort_

\--------------------  
_Aw fuck, Tommy,_

_My bad. I was pretty frickin’ high on adrenaline at the point when I was writin’ that owl. And in my defense, texting would be way easier for these situations. (*Cough, fuckin’ technophobe, cough*)_

_Wade is fine. I’m fine. Another weasel is dead. They pretty much don’t have any rotten kids anymore, so just the parents to deal with. Uh, the new kid is actually my roommate, who walked in while I was undressing after the whole ‘ ~~Pop~~ Dead Goes the Weasel’ game that Luna and I were playing with the Acromantulas. They’re awesome. Bit hairy. Fuckin’ huge! Not something you want to tangle with if you have arachnophobia. Which apparently the weasel had! O.M.G., Tommy, you should have seen his face! Well, I took pics, so I will just show you at the next meeting. But still, it was a fuckin’ work of art. I even put his head, all gory and nasty, on his bed for the kids to find the next morning. (Seriously, laughing my ass off here.)_

_Oh shit! The kid! I was about to wrap this up again without telling you about Theo. Heir Nott. Theodore. His dad’s one of yours. Whole family seems cool. Wade was pretty sure that it would all work out. And he was right. (We should probably put that on a calendar somewhere… ‘Wade was right’. On second thought, nah, wouldn’t want him to get a big head. He already thinks he’s the best thing since peanut butter and jelly sammiches.)_

_Okay, so hopefully you’re cool with all of this. Wade promised not to pop in on you quite so much, so you can stop killing him every time you see him. (I think he’s starting to like the feel of the Avada Kedavra, so you might want to branch out. He has a tendency to associate weird things with feelings of care or tenderness. Anyway, he might bring you a late Valentine’s Day present or some such shit if you keep it up. Just sayin’.)_

_I’m still waiting on the runes. I’m gettin’ antsy to get this all over with. I’ll be home at Easter. Frank said something about just going off, just the two of us. I think that sounds nice. You and I don’t have anything planned, do we? I don’t think so. I’d check my calendar, but I’m not a fuckin’ nerd with a calendar._

_Let me know._

_~ Scourge_

\--------------------  
_Scourge,_

_As a ‘nerd with a calendar’, I can tell you that the only thing I have planned for the Easter Holiday/Ostara Sabbat is pushing Lucius forward in his campaign against Fudge for Minister of Magic. It should be fairly easy, since the Headmaster and Fudge seem to be in the same position regarding all these ‘mysterious’ murders this year. Very strange._

_I almost have the rune sequence down, as well as the spells. I am happy that you have brought young Heir Nott into the fold. He is a worthy ally. Heir Malfoy has spoken of him often, and although they are not close, I know that he is of good stock._

_I am pleased with the progression of the plans so far. You have moved quicker than I thought. And you have utilized many different ways of dealing with these issues. I have spoken to Severus. He understands that bringing in another ally was not intentional, however it will be beneficial in the long run, especially if these runes are going to be the way I am thinking they will be._

_Stay safe. I did, after all, promise your father. And, please, do not divulge our plans to any more unwitting allies._

_Again... cease **IMMEDIATELY** with calling me 'Tommy'!_

_\- Lord Voldemort_

\--------------------  
_Tom, Tommaso, Tomé, Tŏmas, Фома, Thom, Thomáz, Touma,_

_Hopefully one of those works for you and your ‘posh’ self. (*Blows raspberry at you*… Not literally. Like I’m not putting a piece of fuckin’ fruit in my mouth and blowing it at you. That’s gross. I’m not into that kinky shit. Also, eew, germs. No, that means I’m sticking my tongue out at you and making a ‘fart’ noise. – You can’t see, but I’m giggling over the word ‘fart’. Seriously… lost in the giggles now. Fuckin’ C.R.Y.I.N.G.)_

_ANYWAY… so sorry ‘bout the ‘Tommy’ bit. I’ll reform. Promise! (*Crosses fingers behind back like the little shit I am*)_

_Must away to study yon books and pretend to be a wonderful Lord or some shit. Hurry up with those runes!_

_~ Scourge_

\--------------------  
_Scourge,_

__

_I am ignoring ~~90%~~ 99% of that owl. I will have the rune sequence by the end of the week. No need to reply, you heinous child._

_\- Lord Voldemort_

\--------------------  
_Scourge,_

_I have discovered the necessary rune sequence. You will need a total of five people to perform the cleansing spell, along with five white candles. You will need to draw the following runes on each point of the compass. (North, South, East, West – just in case your education has been lacking.)_

  1. _ᛈ (hidden) – place on N_
  2. _ᚫ (ash) – place on E_
  3. _ᚳ (torch) – place on S_
  4. _ᚦ (thorn) – place on W_
  5. _ᛟ (possession) – place on stone_



_Once this has been set, each person must take their place next to their rune. The North will say ‘adolebitque est occultatum’. (1) The East will say ‘ad redigendum cinis’. (2) The South then says ‘adolebitque vincula omnia’. (3) The West recites ‘tollatur de medio spinarum’. (4) And, finally, the person at the stone says ‘mundet et possessionem’. (5) Each participant will light their candle as the last word is spoken. There may be a slight disturbance in the magic of the room before the stone is completely destroyed, so be aware of that potential._

_I suggest that this gets done the night before you leave for your Easter Holiday break so that there will be no repercussions or issues. This will also allow the school to heal her best while there are no students in her halls. The old man will feel the break immediately, so be ready to vanish from the area. Or, if possible, time it for when he is busy with another task so that he is unable to investigate immediately._

_I know I do not need to impress upon you the importance that this matter remains confidential. I understand that you will need to find four other people to perform this spell with you. Might I suggest Severus, your young Ms. Lovegood, Heir Nott and then you can either use Heir Malfoy or get a suggestion from Severus as to whom you might be able to use for one evening. There are spells for forgetting, remember, and Severus is quite adept at the mind arts._

_Keep me informed on your plans to eradicate the warding stone._

_\- Lord Voldemort._

**\----------**

**\--- March 8 th, 1998 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Hogwarts, Severus’ Classroom ---**

Harry dashed through the halls, avoiding hitting other students, as he made his way quickly to Severus’ classroom. His heart was light, and he was fuckin’ pumped about this new development. They had the fix!! They could move forward, _finally_ , with taking down old Fuckledore!!!

He knew that Sev didn’t have a class right then, so he crashed open the door, slammed it behind himself and skipped straight up to where he was seated at his desk, presumably grading papers and grumbling about dunderheaded children.

Harry waved Tom’s letter in front of Severus’ face and exclaimed, “Sev! We’ve got it. I’ve got the sequence. Fuckin’ took forever, but we’ve finally got the way to bring that old asshole down! He won’t know what hit him. We’re gonna slaughter his magic leech, then we’ll fuckin’ slaughter him in court… then we’ll fuckin kill… Why are you looking at me like that?” Harry asked as his speech faded off. He glanced around to see what was wrong, what Severus was looking at, and his heart fuckin’ _dropped_.

“God _damnit_!! Not fuckin’ again!”

Neville sat in Severus’ classroom, far in the back corner, eyes wide as saucers as he took in the two of them up at the desk. As far as Harry could tell, he had yet to move.

Severus stood slowly from the desk and walked around to stand next to Harry as they both faced the boy.

Neville whispered, just loud enough to be heard in the room, “I _knew_ you were a dark wizard!” His eyes darted between the two of them, “And you? Henry? You’re dark too? Are you both Death Eaters??”

Harry pursed his lips in annoyance and let out a frustrated huff. “Fuck, Neville, you weren’t supposed to hear that, okay. Severus is just gonna…” He glanced at Sev, who didn’t appear to be drawing a wand, “well, I _thought_ he was gonna help you forget what you saw here.” He kicked out and made contact with Severus’ shin to get the man to get a move on.

“Do not be too hasty, _Henry_ , I feel that young Mr. Longbottom here might be able to help us instead of hinder us, if given the chance,” Severus said silkily as he brought his hands together in front of himself.

“Da fuck?” Harry almost shouted, before glancing at the unwarded door and lowering his voice, “Are you serious? He’s their fuckin’ _savior_! Even if he is tortured on the regular, he’s all brainwashed and ‘sheepy’. I’m pretty sure he won’t want to help out.”

Neville had been surreptitiously attempting to pack his bag with his things and gather his wand. He stopped when both of the others stopped talking. “I, uh, I won’t say anything. You have my word. Just keep me out of whatever. We can pretend I wasn’t even here.”

Harry narrowed his eyes and curled a lip in scorn. “Yeaaahh, that’s not gonna work there, buddy. You’re not leavin’ here with just you sayin’ you’re not gonna tell.” He glanced at Severus, “Fuck, should I even let him leave at all? I mean, I could just throw him on the list. The spiders owe me a favor and they’d get rid of another body quick.”

“Scourge, cease your drivel. I do believe that Mr. Longbottom, if given the information you have at hand, might be more inclined to come over to our side,” Severus reprimanded Harry lightly.

“What information?” Neville asked tentatively.

Harry observed the Gryffindor _savior_ for a moment before letting out a long, defeated sigh. “You _know_ Tom’s gonna kill us both, right?”

Severus lifted one brow in amusement, “I do believe that I was not the one who ran into a situation without double checking if there were others present while yelling about plans to take down a nefarious megalomaniac.” He tapped his chin and lifted the side of his mouth in the barest of smirks, “No, Mr. Scourge, I believe that was all _your_ doing.”

Glaring at the dour professor for a moment before switching his attention to Neville, Harry let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay, so I’m gonna need you to, like, swear on your magic that what you hear in here is gonna stay between the three of us. Well, I’ll tell you a couple other people you can talk to about it once you’ve done the whole swearing in thing.”

Neville looked like he was standing in front of an old timey western firing line. Harry wasn’t even sure if he was going to be able to stand much longer, or if he was going to drop out from a faint.

“Um, I’m not sure that’s what I want to do,” Neville whispered.

“Look,” Harry began, but was quickly cut off by Severus.

“Mr. Longbottom, I know that this is a bit of a surprise, however, I urge you to remember our conversation the other day regarding you searching for answers. Here, in front of you, is a person that has a font of answers for the taking. I _implore_ you to consider this before you turn it down. Not because the consequences are physically dire, but because the consequences of not learning the truth could be detrimental to your future,” Severus urged the boy.

Neville looked long and hard at Harry, and for once Harry could see how this boy might just be able to become a warrior one day. Not intentionally, but he could definitely see a backbone there.

“You have information that would help me know about my parents? About what the Headmaster is up to? About Vo..Vol…Voldemort?”

Harry’s face broke into a huge grin. “Oh, Neville!! Buddy, I’ve got _all_ the deets. You swear on your magic that you’ll keep this little tête-à-tête to yourself, and I’ll let you know more gossip than Jenny Jones.”

Neville glanced at Severus in confusion, but the older man just shrugged inelegantly. “I am afraid that I have given up on attempting to understand most of Scourge’s muggle terminology. However, he does speak the truth… I believe. He will be honest with you. More honest than the Headmaster, than your trainers, or even I have been with you.”

Breathing in a bolstering breath, Neville gave a sharp nod. “I want to know.” He raised his wand and spoke the vow in front of the other two wizards.

Harry fairly bounced on his feet as he listened to Neville. Now he had five to perform the spell! And! With their powers combined, they could be Captain fuckin’ Planet and eradicate the evildoers in this world!!! (Well, just the one, really.) OOhhh, Luna would _so_ have to be ‘Heart’. Ironically, with his name, he’d probably be more like Dr. Blight. Harry snorted internally… Scourge… Blight… get it???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warnings:** Wade being... Wade
> 
> All translations Latin, done by Google Translate:  
> 1. ‘Burn the hidden’  
> 2. ‘Reduce to ash’  
> 3. ‘Burn all bonds’  
> 4. ‘Remove all thorns from inside’  
> 5. ‘Cleanse possession’
> 
> Movies/TV Quoted/Referenced:
> 
>   1. Captain Planet and the Planeteers (TV - 1990-1996)
>   2. Titanic (1997)
>   3. Pulp Fiction (1994)
>   4. The Blues Brothers (1980)
>   5. Billy Madison (1995)
>   6. The Jenny Jones Show (TV Talkshow - 1991-2003)
> 



	42. On a League of Justice for Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorrow surrounds the burrow, but Albus is there to keep everyone's spirits up. Meanwhile, back at the Hall(s) of ~~Justice~~ Hogwarts, some heroic friends are fighting off an epic evil... Also, a couple of friends aren't quite so 'Super' anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting closer to taking the Old Goat out of the picture. But before we do that, a few more things need to get taken off the list. **Trigger Warnings** at the end of the chapter. Thank you for your love! Enjoy! 💜

**\--- Interlude (Part XII) – The Burrow ---**

Seven people sat around the table at the Burrow, six of them listening to Molly Weasley wail about the fact that _another_ one of her children had died. In a horrific fashion. Under the ‘watch’ of Headmaster Dumbledore. Who was supposed to keep them safe… her children!!

Arthur, ever the helpful ‘leader’ of the family, sat at her side and stared off into space. Their boys, Fred, George and Charlie, had joined in the small group for the discussion. And to help plan yet another funeral for their family. That was three in the past year alone. It was like their family was cursed.

Moody and Dumbledore were there as well, lending their silent support to the family in their time of need. At least Dumbledore said that’s what he was doing. Moody was merely there with his gruff presence to say how this seemed quite like a conspiracy against those who were involved with the Order or even Dumbledore.

“Ron came by our place the other day,” Fred interjected into the depressed atmosphere of the room. “He said that something was wrong. Something was off at the school. He couldn’t tell us, or wouldn’t, but we could tell that something was up. Merlin, he looked petrified.”

George nodded in agreement, “We tried everything we could to get him to tell us what was wrong, but he kept locking up.” He glared over at Moody and Dumbledore for a moment, then at his parents. “You all wouldn’t know what he was on about, would you? He seemed to only have these problems when he was with your Merlin buggering group of Order arseholes! I knew there was a reason we ran the other way when you tried to get us to join!”

“Fred!” Molly cried out in shock. “Watch your mouth or I’ll perform a _Scourgify_ on it!”

George hung his head and shook it back and forth in frustration, “Merlin’s soggy socks, woman, and you call yourself our mother! I’m _George_!” He pointed over to where Fred sat and grumbled, “That’s Fred. Maybe if you paid more attention, you would know the names of the children you bloody well have left alive!”

Molly shrank back against Arthur, blubbering into her apron at the harsh words that George had spat at her. Arthur absently rubbed her shoulder while staring off into space.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and interjected, “Now, now, children. This is all some clear coincidence. We have no reason to believe that it is your family that is being target. No, my good people, it is merely a coincidence. Nothing else could possibly be happening here.”

Fred reached out a hand and patted George on his shoulder to calm him down. Just then Charlie piped in, “Coincidence?!? You’re off your bloody head! We need to figure out what is going on with our family! First Ginny, then Bill, and now Ron! I am siding with Fred and George here, whatever you lot got him involved in, Ron should have just been kept out of it. Merlin! He was only 17! And Ginny! We all _know_ she didn’t take her own life!”

He took a deep fortifying breath and looked at Dumbledore with disdain, “Whatever you all did is causing our family to be torn apart! This is not just some bleedin’ coincidence; this is a curse! And, you know what? I’ll not be part of it anymore. I’m done. I fully wash my hands of this family. I can’t handle another Merlin damned funeral where one of our own gets buried after what you lot say is some bloody freak ‘accident’. Seems like a pack of lies. Besides, my bosses in Romania don’t have any more time to spare me from the sanctuary.” He looked over at his parents and sighed, shaking his head sadly. “I just don’t want to stay here and watch whatever curse this is tear us even further apart. I’ll be taking an international portkey in the morning back to Romania. I hope that you all fix whatever it is you broke, because, like I said, this is no bloody _‘coincidence’_.” 

He rose from the table and nodded at the others there, stopping to squeeze the shoulders of Fred and George in a show of comfort. Slowly ascending the stairs to his room, he began to pack for his trip back to Romania, his heart heavy with the knowledge that he might not see any of his family alive again.

Fred and George looked at each other, speaking with glances as they often did. They turned to the adults in the room and nodded their heads as one. 

“We’re also out of this barmy plot, or curse, or whatever it is that is going on with our family. We don’t want anything to do with it, isn’t that right Gred?” George asked his brother.

“Right you are, Forge,” Fred agreed. “We’re done. We’re going back to our shop where this curse seems to not have touched.” He looked sadly at his parents for a moment before continuing, “We hope that you fix whatever it is that cursed this family, but until you do, we’re staying away.”

Turning to his brother he motioned for him to get up. “Come on Forge, time to leave this place. It seems like the closer we stay to this family, the worse it is. Who knows, maybe we’ll be next. And I, for one, don’t want to be on someone’s bloody ‘to kill’ list. Hopefully we’ll come back when this is all over, but just in case… good luck mum and dad.” He paused to glare at Dumbledore and Moody, “I hope you fix this bloody soon…”

They both walked to the door of the Burrow and stepped out, walking to the edge of the wards and apparating. With a crack, they were gone into the night, washing their hands of the curse on the Order and the Weasleys alike.

Dumbledore hummed in thought at the loss of three more potential minions before turning back to face their parents. “This is most disturbing indeed. It is apparent that they have had outside forces pressed upon them, or they would be able to see how important this mission was. Yes, yes, most disturbing indeed.”

Moody grunted in annoyance, “Leavin’ right in the bloody middle of the beginning of a war. Civilians! No stomach for the fight! Right now is the time when we need to have constant vigilance! We need to stand together and fight!”

Dumbledore nodded his head, ignoring the wailing woman at the table who had just lost three more of her children. “Yes, right you are Alastor, right you are.”

**\----------**

_Harry snorted internally… Scourge… Blight… get it???_

**\--- March 3 rd, 1998 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

 **\--- Hogwarts, Severus’ Classroom ---**

Neville, Harry and Severus had sat around in the classroom for a while after Neville decided to side with them. He had a ton of questions after their short explanation, regarding the Headmaster, his family, Voldemort and what Harry was doing.

“My parents, they weren’t hurt by Vol..Voldemort?” Neville asked, still a bit timidly. 

Severus shook his head slowly, “No, he did not hurt them. From what we can tell, after the Potters were killed and Harry was dropped off at his relatives…” 

Harry interrupted with a snarl, “Fuckin’ _assholes_.” 

“Yes, well… after he was dropped off with his relatives, Dumbledore wanted to doubly make sure that he had a child to fulfill the false prophecy. We believe that he had someone in the Order torture your parents so that they would fall into line with Dumbledore’s teachings, or more likely, fall into line with you being the back-up ‘savior’ in the prophecy. It is just like the Headmaster to have more than one option at the ready so that he could push his propaganda on the wizarding world. And, I would guess that whoever did the torturing went too far and caused your parents to go into magical comas,” Severus told the boy who was shaking by the end of his explanation. He paused to allow the Gryffindor to get his bearings, "Also, Mr. Longbottom, I might suggest that you get checked out by a healer that does not have any association with Hogwarts. There might be some lingering effects from your 'training'." 

Neville took a deep breath in and nodded. “That's, yeah, that's probably a good idea. I'll see if I can't get Gran to take me to St. Mungo's." He shifted his gaze between the two of them again before asking, "And you’re _sure_ that You Know Who had nothing to do with it? And if he didn’t, then who?” 

Harry looked over at Severus, then back at Neville and shrugged, “I don’t know anything about your story, sorry. I know who fucked me over and who’s on my list. Honestly, they’re probably the same people that would be on your list.” 

Neville bit his lip in thought and then told Severus, “I want to help you fight this. They’ve used me… they’ve all _used_ me…” 

Snorting lowly, Harry shook his head in commiseration. “Yeah, fucker, welcome to the club. And I say ‘fucker’ in the nicest way possible,” he said, baring his teeth in a grin at Neville. “These assholes have fucked over _sooo_ many people, Neville, my man. They’ve taken and taken, ruined lives, hurt people… like your parents… like you. Fuckledore is working from the inside to make things go his way, like the Cigarette Man from the X-Files." He shook his head for a moment and sighed, "Fuck, you guys probably won't get that reference, but still, he's an asshole who is doing a fuck ton of wrong. But we’ve got a plan! That’s what I was talking about earlier. We’re actually working with Voldemort and he’s given us these runes to get rid of the magic leech in the school.” 

Severus reached for the parchment and Harry gladly gave it up so that he could fiddle with one of his knives. Neville eyed it dubiously but continued asking questions, “So we just need to follow the instructions on that parchment and we’ll get rid of this leech? And the Headmaster will be weakened?” He paused for a moment, looking at the both of them, “Do you think that this will help my mum and dad?” 

Harry looked away from the miserable Gryffindor and stared at the shelves of potion ingredients. He would let Sev handle this one. 

“Mr. Longbottom, it is highly unlikely that fixing this leech within the school will have any bearing on the torment that your parents suffered in their home so many years ago. I do not want to give you false hope,” Severus said, almost showing empathy toward the Gryffiindor. 

Neville tightened his lips and his fists, steeling himself. “I’m going to help you fix this. Then, I’m going to figure out who was the one who hurt my parents.” 

Harry looked at him for a long moment before saying, “Well, a lot of the possibilities are already dead. We know that Dumblefuck was at my parents’ house and that only leaves a few in the Order.” 

Severus hummed in thought for a moment, then he narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips in annoyance. “If I had to guess, Mr. Longbottom, I would say that you should look to one of Dumbledore’s main ‘enforcers’, so to speak… Mr. Alastor ‘Mad Eye’ Moody.” 

Neville sucked in a quick breath as his eyes widened in shock, “Mad Eye???” He shook his head and whispered, almost to himself, "He _trained_ me. Merlin! So many lies... I've been told so many _bloody lies_." 

Well, shit, Harry thought. Looks like Moody would have to be moved from the ‘just watch’ list to the ‘fuckin’ kill till he’s good and dead’ list. 

**\----------**

**\--- March 17 th, 1998 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Room of Requirement ---**

The five of them met up late in the evening in the hallway on the 7th floor. The hall was empty except for the five of them. Harry had to assume that the sentient school was helping them too. Maybe she was diverting stairs and whatnot so that other students would stay away from the area. Either way, it was working out well for them. Harry glanced at the other four present and gave a quick nod of his head before pacing back and forth three times.

_I need the room with the leeching stone… I need the room with the leeching stone… I need the room with the leeching stone…_

Just as before, a doorway appeared, and Luna bounced on her feet in excitement. “Oh look! We wished for it and it showed up!” She wrapped her arms around Harry’s waist and hugged him tight. “This is the best game of hide and seek ever!”

Harry chuckled and patted her on the head. “Yep, that’s right Moon.”

“We need to cease with these antics,” Severus interrupted them. “We are on a tight schedule. I happen to know that the Headmaster is in a meeting right now in his office, but we do not know how long it will last. This must be done as quickly as possible.”

Luna turned her wide eyes to him and blinked once, “He is not going to find us, Professor, he is in the process of dealing with a dying bird. The pigeon spoke out and had to be plucked.”

Neville and Theo looked at her in confusion and Harry furrowed his brow. Pigeon? Who was being plucked?

“Who are you talking about Moon?” Harry asked as they walked into the room.

“Hmm? Oh, were we talking about feathers flying? I could use a new feather boa. Of course, I would like one with rainbow feathers. Maybe more blue feathers than anything. Do you think I could ask Mr. Tom for one? He has yet to give me my shoes.”

Severus sighed deeply and shook his head at the blond girl’s quirky speech. “We must hurry. Enough of this side chatter and nonsense. This is the best chance we have to get this done, and we are quickly running out of time.”

They each took their candles and Severus instructed them again on which runes they should draw where they stood. Harry took the rune in the middle by the ward stone. Theo and Neville took the North and East points, while Luna stood at the South. Severus went to the West point, completing the compass points around the warding stone.

Harry felt the magic, slimy and dark, slipping over his skin as he drew nearer to mark his rune right on the stone. With a nod to everyone that he was ready, Theo began to speak his part. Harry could tell that he was nervous, since his voice shook a bit into the otherwise quiet room. Neville also seemed to have a bit of nerves as he said his incantation next.

Luna beamed a serene smile as her voice lilted out ‘adolebitque vincula omnia’(1). Severus kept his stern face stoic as he intoned his incantation.

Harry could feel the magic from the stone pulse with each sentence said. He could feel that the warding stone was trying to allow the poisoned magic to burst free from its confines. It felt fuckin’ creepy. 

Taking a deep breath, Harry spoke clearly into the room. “Mundet et possessionem.”(2)

The five wizards in the room lit their candles as soon as Harry had spoken the last word of his phrase. And, for fuck’s sake, when Tom had said there ‘may be a slight disturbance in the magic of the room before the stone is completely destroyed’, and to ‘be aware of that potential’… well that was the fuckin’ understatement of the century.

Swirls of magic flowed around the ward stone, causing the robes and hair of those in the room to fly about. The candles in their hands flickered, but amazingly remained lit. (Fuckin’ magical shit was _always_ the coolest!) The stone began to shake as the swirls went around the stone faster and faster. Harry tried to yell something out to the others in the room, but his voice was lost in the wind.

He looked over at Luna who stood there, eyes closed, and head tipped back, apparently fuckin’ _enjoying_ this bizarre situation. Theo and Neville had death grips on their candles. Their eyes were wide and jaws slack as they watched the magic twist about.

Severus also seemed stunned at the display, but in his stoic, dour ‘Severus’ way.

Eventually, after a few minutes (or maybe seconds, or even an hour… Harry wasn’t sure), the magic was all sucked quickly out of the room and down into the stone. He tried to step back from the probable backlash, but his feet were firmly stuck to the ground. Ducking his head behind his arm, he braced himself for the inevitable.

But the stone shuddered, shook with the influx of the magic, turned a dark black and then, just like the two Nazis' faces melting right off their skulls in Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark, the warding stone melted down into a black puddle on the floor of the Room of Requirement. The puddle bubbled for a moment, turned into a solid pumice looking rock and then turned to ash. The room filled with a light, cleansing breeze, and the ash was picked up and pushed out to the corners, only to be absorbed back into the walls and floor.

Basically, it was fuckin’ freaky, and Harry hoped he never had to be involved in something like that again.

Before anyone could say anything, they all heard a deep sigh coming from all around them… from the walls and ceiling, from the floor.

_Thank you, my children._  
_You have done well._  
_Mother Magic bless you all…_

“Merlin…” Theo breathed out in awe as the breeze flew by him. Apparently, they were able to talk again.

Neville nodded in agreement at the Slytherin’s apt description of the situation. “Bloody hell! I’ve _never_ seen anything like that before.”

“Quite right, Mr. Longbottom. This has been an exceedingly intriguing situation, to be sure,” Severus said quietly.

Harry snorted as he pulled Luna into his side. “Fuckin’ master of the understatement there, Sev. ‘Intriguing situation’. More like a bizarro world of slimy magic and melting rocks. I’m cool with never dealing with this shit again. Fuck this noise.”

Theo shook his head and chuckled lightly, “I like you better like this, Henr.. Harry. You’re much more interesting this way than you are as a standoffish and bookish person.”

Harry cackled in glee while Luna beamed at Theo and said, “Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet. His final act is coming soon, and I can’t wait to see how it works out.” She stopped speaking and tilted her head to the side, focusing glazed eyes on Neville. (Who looked quite freaked the fuck out to be the target of Sprite’s attention, honestly.)

“The all-seeing eye is closed, never to gaze anymore… see Neville? It has worked out for the best! Your soul didn't even have to change from the light of innocence.” Luna smiled peacefully and giggled. 

Shaking her head, she looked over at Harry, cupping his jaw with her small hand. "This just proves it. Some are not meant to fight, Scourge. Some are meant to stay pure from the taint of blood... But you?" She dropped her voice to a whisper, "You are meant to spill it for those who cannot do it for themselves. You were chosen."

Quickly she bounced back to her giddy self, all seriousness forgotten. (Harry would never understand her mood swings, as fun and odd as they were.) Looking back over at Neville she exclaimed excitedly, "But!! That is not necessary tonight! Yes, Neville, you are free." 

Grinning blindingly at Neville she rushed over to hug him. Harry heard her whisper in his ear, "I'm so happy your Nargles are gone." 

She turned to Harry and reached out to grab both of his hands in celebration, spinning them in a circle. “It’s almost over, Scourge! The list is almost done!”

Harry raised one eyebrow in confusion at all of the things that Luna had said. She seemed to be all over the place right then. Even for her normal quirky self, it was a bit out there. Meanwhile, Severus watched the interaction with curiosity tinged with confusion. He seemed to come back to himself quickly, though, and cleared his throat.

“We must leave now. Quickly head back to your common rooms. If anyone asks where you have been, simply say you were in detention with me. Avoid everyone you can,” Severus instructed them while ushering them toward the door. “Remember, straight to your common rooms.”

Neville and Theo nodded and quickly exited the room. Harry turned to Sev and said, “I’m gonna make sure that Luna makes it to Ravenclaw first, then I’ll head to Slytherin. You know that I can stay out of the way of anyone that comes along. I just wanna make sure she gets there safely.”

Severus nodded his acceptance before reminding them, “Straight there… then directly to the Slytherin dorms, Mr. Potter.”

“No worries, Sev. We'll be on our best behavior,” Harry promised.

“Hmm,” Severus said with a disbelieving look. “That would be more reassuring if I didn’t know who you were, Scourge.”

Harry shot him a snarky grin and pulled Luna out of the room toward Ravenclaw. Harry was sure that Severus could hear her singing softly as they walked away.

_" **D** own went the king_  
_**I** n ruins and tatters_  
_**T** he maid she was free_  
_**C** hains broken and shattered_  
_**S** he rose up her hand_  
_**N** o more his to rule_  
_**C** rying out in her anger_  
_**N** o longer a fool_

_**‘F** or shame and for shame_  
_**Y** ou have stolen from me’_

_**S** he whispered his name_  
_**C** ursed him to melancholy_  
_**H** is reign is defamed_  
_**T** he world now could see_  
_**T** he king tried to reason_  
_**T** ried to beg and to plead_  
_**B** ut she’d seen his treason_  
_**A** nd his death she decreed_

_**‘F** or shame and for shame_  
_**Y** ou have stolen from me’_

_**D** own went the king_  
_**I** n blood and all battered_  
_**T** he maid she was free_  
_**N** o more pain only laughter"_

**\----------**

**\--- Interlude (Part XIII) – Headmaster’s Office ---**

Moody’s leg thumped on the floor as he paced in the Headmaster’s office. Back and forth, back and forth. He had a pensive look on his grizzled face, and his magical eye was moving around the room to take in everything.

“Alastor, my friend, what seems to be the problem?” Dumbledore asked in his kindly grandfatherly way.

Moody pinned him with a speculative look and grunted, “The Weasley boy knew all about what was going on in the school. He knew what or who is causing all of this trouble. His death did not come as a surprise to him… No, I believe he _knew_ it was coming.” He paused for a moment before continuing, “And I have to believe, Albus, that _you_ also had the idea that it was coming. There are just too many coincidences connected to you and your plans for this not to be some person or persons bent on revenge.”

He sat down in front of Dumbledore’s desk and observed the older wizard. “You need to tell me the truth, Albus. You need to let me know what is going on. I have been with you since the beginning, working for the greater good of the wizarding world. But this? This is insanity, Albus! You tell me the bloody truth so that I know what I am fighting. I can’t fight something if I don’t have all the facts!”

Dumbledore watched the ex-auror intently during his speech. He knew that he needed to appease the man. To alleviate his concerns.

“My good man. Alastor, there is nothing to tell. I must admit that this whole situation is surprising to me as well. I can think of _nothing_ that would be causing all of this turmoil. I must maintain that it is coincidence. It is merely the dark wizards at work.”

Moody scrutinized him skeptically, doubtful that the ancient Headmaster was telling him the full story. “We will see, Albus. I’ll not sacrifice myself for something that I cannot see anymore. Besides, with this whole situation, I don’t have anyone to train anymore. The numbers are dwindling, Albus. And it seems that you are in the middle.”

Dumbledore bristled at the man’s words. He narrowed his eyes, the twinkle diminishing massively. “This is for the Greater Good, my dear friend. This is for the fight against Voldemort! For the fight against the dark!!!”

Harumphing a snort, Moody crossed his arms across his chest in disbelief. “Albus, you old quack, you know we haven’t heard anything since you _stole_ that child so many years ago… under extremely suspicious circumstances for that matter. I should have never followed your orders regarding the Longbottoms. Seems like it didn’t do any good anyways. And, I _know_ there are more things you are involved in, old man, I _know_ it.”

“My dear, dear friend. It sounds as if you are blaming _me_ for what is happening here. And we both know that I have done nothing but try to bring the light into a dark, dark world.”

Moody’s eye circled the office, landing on Albus. “This is the beginning of the end, Albus. I can feel it. No matter how much vigilance we have, I can see that what you had plotted and planned is all spiraling out of control. We are no longer in charge. _You_ are no longer in charge…”

Shaking his head slowly, Albus affected his best disappointed face. He slowly fingered his wand under the desk and said, “I am sorry that you feel that way, old friend. I, of course, would like to work with you so that we can solve these problems you think are happening. Of course.”

Nodding his acceptance, Moody did not realize (even with all his preaching on ‘constant vigilance’) that the Headmaster had quickly raised his wand and uttered the last words that Alastor ‘Mad Eye’ Moody would ever hear… _Avada Kedavra_.

Behind Dumbledore, Fawkes trilled sadly as the ex-auror slumped in the chair. Eye open, magical eye still spinning even after death. 

Dumbledore grumbled under his breath, “Blast! You were such a good soldier, old friend. But we couldn’t have you looking _too_ much further into things. No, no, we couldn’t have that. Now, to get rid of the evidence…”

**\----------**

The inconvenience of Moody was taken care of and Albus sat at his desk, popping lemon drops into his mouth while contemplating the whole situation. Oh, the frustration of losing another soldier for the light. 

All of the sudden, as he sat there, ruminating, Fawkes squawked out and a snap of magic flooded the room. Then it quickly sucked back out like a vacuum, as fast as it came in. Albus clutched his chest as he felt the connection with his leeching magic break. His stone! His precious, precious stone! What happened to his magic???

Almost immediately he could feel the change in his body. His bones felt more brittle. His skin sagged and suddenly felt like paper. He no longer had the power to keep the extra twinkle in his eye. His body felt as if it had aged 50 years in a moment's time.

“NOOoo!” He cried out, gripping the desk as he leaned over it in pain. “Not my magic…”

**\----------**

**\--- March 18 th, 1998 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Quidditch Pitch ---**

The day before the school was to be released for their Easter holidays, the Captain of the Hufflepuff quidditch team sent two of his beaters to grab the supplies from the shed. They immediately came running back, pale faced and stammering about a dead man. He sighed to himself. It looked like quidditch practice was postponed until after the holidays. 

The aurors were called. Harry, who had joined in with the group of lookey-loos, recognized some of them from Tom’s meetings. Good, that meant that he would be able to get any information about what was going on. It also meant that the investigation would go the way that they wanted it to.

Gossip spread through the crowd. The man dead was called Moody... Mad Eye, they whispered. Cause of death appeared to be unnatural, but that was yet to be determined. Probably a dark curse, maybe even an _unforgivable_. (That was said in hushed tones.) Harry could feel the fear and tension ripple through the crowd. A killer was on the loose again. (Harry snorted to himself. He wasn’t even responsible this time.)

Neville met Harry’s eyes over the crowd, a question formed in them. Harry barely shook his head, but Neville understood. This wasn’t his kill. He would have done it for the kid, but he didn’t have to this time.

Luna came up beside him and slipped her hand in his. She leaned in and whispered, “See? Another pigeon down. Apparently, he tried to fly too high, and, like Icarus, his wings were destroyed.”

“Huh, interesting. Welp, at least we don’t have to put ourselves out and plan another surprise party for someone from the bad bird club. And Neville should be happy about the whole thing.”

She hummed in agreement and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Oh happy days.”

**\----------**

**\--- March 26 th, 1998 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- The Burrow ---**

The holiday break had started wonderfully. Frank and Harry had bummed around London, enjoying stupid shit that Harry didn't get to do that often anymore. They didn't have many concrete plans, but there was _one_ thing that Harry did want to accomplish. Frank asked if he wanted help, but Harry said that he wanted to 'bro' it out with his buddy Wade.

Wade was thrilled.

Harry and Wade apparated outside the Burrow late at night. All of the lights were out, and they could tell that the two occupants were sound asleep, or at least in bed for the evening. As they approached, Harry felt the tingle of wards wash over him, but he kept walking, pulling Wade along with him.

He reached out and pushed his magic forward, working with the runes that Dr. Strange had taught him. Finally, an opening in the wards broke and he and Wade were able to step through. He hoped that the making of the hole had not alerted those inside the house, however it did not seem like it had. 

Wade nudged him and pointed around back, indicating that he would go that way. Harry nodded and signaled that he would go in the front and to be ready for anything that might come their way. Harry wasn’t worried that the Weasleys would kill Wade, but he was worried that they might be able to get a message out that they were under attack… or being murdered… or whatever. He didn’t want to fuckin’ bother with semantics.

They moved into the house. Fuckin’ trusting ass people not locking their doors again. Not that it wouldn’t have been easy to unlock with a couple of trusty spells, but still! Their entire family was being slowly taken out and they decide that leaving their door unlocked is a good idea?? Maybe they were relying on the wards. Stupid. (Frank always said to have at _least_ four types of locks in place. “Better safe than sorry, kid. One lock might be picked, two might slow them, three will piss them off and just make the last one a booby trap so it kills ‘em.”)

Taking a look around the room, Harry noticed a bizarre clock on the wall. There were hands labeled with names and locations. One marked with Fred and George pointed at ‘safe’, one marked Charlie was wavering between ‘safe’ and ‘home’. Harry assumed that wherever Charlie was, he was doing well.

The last two names on the clock, Molly and Arthur, were firmly stuck in the middle of ‘Mortal Peril’. Harry snorted to himself. Fuckin’ trust a clock to know that someone is gonna die tonight. Maybe he should get one of those for his fucked-up family. Then he shook his head, nah, it would always show ‘Mortal Peril’ for everyone. Wade would probably have his between ‘Mortal Peril’ and ‘Dead’ most of the time.

Casting a silencing spell on his feet, Harry made his way through the house. Wade met up with him and signed that there was no one else there, and the house was all clear except for those two upstairs. Harry subtly cast another silencing spell on Wade’s feet as they ascended the stairs.

Pulling out one of his katanas, Wade handed it to Harry while taking his other one for himself. They reached the room where the couple slept, still unaware of the danger that lurked right outside their door. Harry motioned to Wade that he should take Arthur, and Harry would take Molly. They crept into the room and Harry put up a fist in the air for both of them to stop.

He looked down at the couple, sleeping quietly… or in Molly’s case, snoring loudly enough to be heard in the next room. He thought about how they had stolen from him, how they had joined in on this little ploy to take what they could from Harry Potter… and he seethed.

Lifting the katana above his head, he nodded to Wade. As one, they dropped their swords down and lopped off the couple’s heads. Neither the man nor the woman had a chance to wake and shout out. The heads slightly rolled to the middle of the bed, knocking into each other. Their faces slack with sleep, eyes shut. Blood poured out of the bodies and where their necks had been severed. The bodies still twitched after the head had been removed.

Harry watched with morbid fascination as the bodies finally stilled. He had dropped his katana, point on the ground as he leaned against the handle. Wade grunted that their deaths were pretty anticlimactic, as far as revenge killings go. He mumbled that it would have been more awesome if it was bloodier… like in Blade.

Snickering in the quiet room, Harry nodded in agreement. It _was_ a bit anticlimactic. But it was done. And they needed to finish up and get the fuck out of there before someone came and noticed the two dead people. Also, he had _one_ teensy thing left to do.

He motioned for Wade to follow him out of the room and out of the Burrow. They stood in the garden and glanced at the house for a moment. Harry hadn’t heard any telltale cracks of apparition yet. Apparently, they were fine with their nighttime murder spree. 

He glanced around and took a deep breath in. Bringing his hands in front of him, he envisioned fire, just like he had when he burnt down the Dursley’s old house the year before. He felt the spark between his palms grow. He fed it with his anger at the situation. With his spite toward the two dead weasels in the house. With his rage toward the Headmaster who would inevitably be told about all of this.

The fireball grew and grew, until it was large enough that Harry worried about being able to control it. He pushed one final angry thought into his magic and let the fire go… flinging it toward the dilapidated Burrow. The door ignited first, then the frame… and it spread quickly to the walls. The fire’s heat radiated out to where they stood.

Wade pulled them back a bit, and Harry could feel that they passed beyond the wards of the Burrow. They stood off to the side, out of sight if someone should see the fire and come along. Watching it burn, Harry felt another piece of his anger slip away. It was good to get another item off of his list.

“So, is this all making you happy, Scourgie Wourgie? Is seeing these people dead doing your heart good? Is this vengeance what makes you do the things you do?” Wade asked Harry, tilting his head to the side as he watched the Burrow burn.

Harry snorted and nudged his shoulder against Wade. “So, this is what we’re doing, huh? Fine, I’ll play along.” He picked up a blade of grass and pretended to smoke it while affecting his best Doc Holliday and drawling, “Well, you see Deadpool, a man like Scourge has a great big hole right in the middle of him. He can never kill enough, inflict enough pain or cause enough mayhem to ever fill it.”

Wade hummed and wrapped his arm around Harry, prodding him to continue. “Uh huh. Aaaannnnnd… what does he really need?”

Chuckling, Harry shoved back at Wade to free himself, while groaning in annoyance. “Fine, fine.” He continued, “Revenge.”

“For what?”

Harry glanced at the Burrow then back at Wade, whispering, “For bein’ born.”

“Awww, but you _love_ the life you have, Bitty Baby Scourge. And I’m happy you were born. So is Frank… and probably Wolvie. But I can never tell with him. He hasn’t skewered you with his claws yet, so he probably likes you.” Wade cried out as he pulled Harry in close and gave his head a hard noogie. 

Harry squawked out in offense and let out a long breath. They stood there a moment longer, watching the building ignite even further into flames. “Yeah, this is the kinda shit that makes me happy, Dead. I’m pretty lucky to be doin’ this. I'm pretty lucky that I get to do it with you guys, too.” 

Smirking to himself, Harry rocked back and forth on his heels, fiddling with his knife as he watched the house burn. The bad rodents were gone, the others in the Order had been dealt with. The false prophet was gone. The crazy cat lady was probably kitty litter at this point. Only the leader was left, and Tom and Lucius would be taking care of that shortly. It was almost done. It was almost over.

Harry grabbed on to Wade as he heard the cracks of apparition near the building. He quickly apparated them out of there and to their London house, safe from the investigators and safe from prying eyes.

One more to go…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warnings:** Decapitations, slight description of bloody heads/bodies
> 
> 1. "Burn all bonds" - Latin from Google Translate  
> 2. "Cleanse possession" - Latin from Google Translate
> 
> Movies/TV Referenced/Quoted:
> 
>   1. Super Friends (TV 1973-1985)
>   2. The X-Files (TV 1993-2002)
>   3. Raiders of the Lost Ark (Indiana Jones) (1981)
>   4. Blade (1998)
>   5. Tombstone (1993)
> 



	43. On a Day Late and a Galleon Short

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus’ no good, very bad week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love imagining the faces on the two aurors as they had to deal with Dumbledore... and just imagine the story they told their families when they went home that night. 😂 Enjoy the long (and dialogue heavy) trial of Albus Dumbledore. I was going to split it up, but, eh, you can just have a super long chapter. As always, thanks for the 💜 !!

**\--- Interlude (Part IV) - Headmaster’s Office, 12:24 on the 5 th of April ---**

“Why will you not allow me out of my office?!?” Dumbledore blustered at the two aurors who were stationed outside his door. “What is this nonsense? I have a school to run, and I am a very busy man. I cannot be inconvenienced by the trivialities of wizards who do not understand the importance of my station.”

The two aurors looked at each other for a moment, attempting to not roll their eyes at the pathetic visage of an aging wizard before them. Neither of them had been aurors long, so it wasn’t that long ago that they had him as their Headmaster. Sadly, or not so sadly, they weren’t even recognized by the barmy old man. Although, he, himself, was almost unrecognizable.

Dumbledore’s skin had multiplied in wrinkles, and the constant glow that he used to have had diminished massively. He no longer held the aura of power and esteem that he once had. He did not stand as tall as he did when they attended Hogwarts. His back held a slight hunch and his eyes no longer twinkled with mad abandon. Basically, he looked old… and dying. He was wasting away before their eyes.

“Mr. Dumbledore, sir, our orders are that you are currently under house arrest and not authorized to leave this area. You are allowed to be in your office and your quarters. You are no longer part of the leadership of this school, according to our written orders, and thus we are to keep you from interacting with other staff and students.” He nodded toward the inside of the office. “You need to go back inside, sir. I am sure that after the trial hearing, all of this will be taken care of. Please let us know if you think you need to go anywhere.”

Glancing down at a parchment in his hands, he quickly amended. “Actually, sir, according to these orders you are not authorized any leave from here, except to Wizengamot. You apparently did not submit any requests prior to your house arrest for exceptions to leave.”

Dumbledore’s vein in his forehead had started to show and the tic in his eye had begun. His jaw was clenched in obvious anger. “It is _Headmaster_ Dumbledore, and I was _not_ made aware of _any_ of these baseless accusations. What right do you have to keep me here? What right? I demand to know who said that I must be under guard and have to stay in my quarters.” Narrowing his eyes for a moment, he quickly pasted on a genial face and changed tactics. “This is preposterous, my boy. I am not a danger to anyone or anything. This is all a misunderstanding. Surely you must remember when you both attended here… you both did attend here, right? Yes, I’m sure of it. I remember all the wonderful faces of my students. Such gifts to the world. We would be lost without them as our future.”

The two aurors side eyed each other and shrugged. They didn’t believe the old coot for a moment. He hadn’t recognized them in the beginning. It was _highly_ doubtful that he recognized them now.

“Sir, we are going to have to insist that you go back into your quarters. I must remind you of the missive you were sent that detailed all of the things you are and aren’t authorized. I do believe that if you have any questions, you should contact the people annotated in the letter.”

Dumbledore let out a frustrated huff, “I did not _receive_ any missive, young man. I have _no idea_ what you are speaking of. I have done absolutely _nothing_ wrong, and I demand that you let me pass!”

“No, sir. I’m sorry, but no matter how much you request us to move, you cannot pass." (1) He slowly reached for his wand and inclined his head at the accused. “I’m going to have to ask you again, sir, please step back into your quarters. We do not want to take any issue with you, but we have been authorized to use force if necessary.”

Grunting in annoyance, Dumbledore glared at them again. He turned to walk back into his office, grumbling under his breath, “This is preposterous. I will make sure that this is taken care of immediately. I never got an owl from Wizengamot. There was _no_ missive. No summons. And, no one would _dare_ imprison me…”

**\----------**

1st of April, 1998

**Attn:** Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Mister  
_Titles Under Debate:_

  * Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
  * Order of Merlin (First Class)
  * Grand Sorcerer
  * Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards



Mr. Dumbledore,

You are hereby **summoned** , and **required** to attend a special session of Wizengamot, to be convened at 1300 on the 10th of April, 1998 in the Ministry of Magic, Department of Magical Law Enforcement (DMLE), in order to discuss the accusations brought before this council in regards to your current, as well as your previous actions.

You have been charged with the following offenses, in order from least severe to most:

  * Coercion
  * Extortion
  * Inciting Anti-Governmental Actions
  * Attempting to Lead a Militia
  * Theft
  * Attempted Line Theft
  * Abuse/Neglect of a Minor Child
  * Assault with a Deadly Weapon
  * Attempted Murder 
  * Murder
  * Theft of Magic



You have the right to council. Should you refuse this right, you are authorized to speak on your own behalf. No representation will be provided for you.

You have the right to witnesses. All witnesses must be declared prior to the date and time listed below for evidence admittance. ( _See last paragraph._ ) The prosecution will be calling witnesses for these charges, which you may wish to refute, as is your right. These witnesses do not need to be disclosed to you, however you may cross-examine them during your trial.

You will be judged fairly by a council of your peers. If you are found guilty of any of the above charges, the sentencing hearing will tentatively be held at 1300 on the 15th of April, 1998.

You are hereby remanded to house arrest at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This will start on the day of the 5th at 12:00. You are to remain in your quarters/office until the beginning of this trial and throughout its duration. At no time are you authorized to leave the grounds, unless you are being escorted by authorized personnel. You are not authorized to choose your own escorts. Aurors, selected by the Wizengamot, will be provided in case you have any legitimate need to leave your house arrest. _** Any requests for leaving house arrest must be submitted **24 hours prior** to the beginning of house arrest, no later than 12:00 on the 4th of April, 1998.**_

You are not authorized to use your magic nor your wand for anything other than light duties. There will be a _Priori Incantatem_ cast before each session to ensure that these orders are being followed. You will relinquish your wand for the duration of the trial, and if found guilty, you will relinquish it indefinitely. In the event that you choose to disregard these orders regarding use of your magic, your wand will be taken early, and your magic will be dampened for the duration of the trial. There will be no acceptable justification for the use of magic outside the minimum allowable amount. Punishment will be severe and immediate.

If you require additional information, would like to submit additional witnesses or evidence on your behalf, or would like to refute or deny these charges, please contact the Junior Undersecretary to the Minister, Percival I. Weasley, by owl. In accordance with Wizengamot Wizarding Law, you are to be given the maximum of five (5) business days to send an official reply with any concerns. Please have your reply sent no later than the 5th of April, 1998 at 1200 hours. Any response, witness lists, or evidence received later than that date and time will not be taken into account during trial.

**_Lord Lucius A. Malfoy_**  
Chief Warlock  
Wizengamot

**\----------**

Albus looked down at the missive in his hand and sighed. Why hadn’t he cleaned off his desk of all these letters sooner? He assumed that anything important would have stood out to him as it was delivered. Like something from _Wizengamot_!!! That confounded Lucius and his slippery Slytherin ways! Now he got the letter _one day too late_. There was no chance to officially send in his ‘evidence’ of no wrongdoing. No chance to gather up his witness list. He would have to just trust that those who followed him would be on his side when the final judgement vote came through.

He pursed his lips in frustration, a ‘council of his peers’. He scoffed, there were _no peers_ of the Great Albus Dumbledore! He alone held the knowledge and power to do what was right in the wizarding world. These wizards and witches should know that by now. He has proven time and again how trustworthy, how honest, how much he wanted the best for those around him. Only to be dealt this blow…

It was all spiraling out of control now. Although this whole situation made him frustrated and angry, he barely had the energy to face it anymore, honestly. Ever since he had felt the magic slowly seeping back into the school and had discovered that his warding stone had been broken. Nothing was helping him regain his vitality. Behind him Fawkes let out a cheerful chirp, which he responded to by throwing a lemon drop at his head. Bloody chicken of a familiar! He shouldn’t be so happy when his master was slowly fading away.

Groaning in frustration and burying his head in one hand, Albus thought about the absolute unfairness of it all. Stuck in his office and his rooms… which might not be his office and rooms for very much longer. This was absolutely, positively the most preposterous situation.

He had to think… if the trial was on the 10th, he had many things to get together before then.

Albus glanced at the ridiculous charges that they said he ‘did’. Outrageous! He had never coerced or extorted anyone in his entire 116 years on this earth! To even _imagine_ he would do such a crime! Sure, he did occasionally ‘persuade’ people to do the right thing, but it was for the GREATER GOOD! Couldn’t people see that? He would need to point that out during his defense.

Of course he would not be asking anyone to defend him. Who, besides him, would be able to tell his most important story? Who would be able to make the masses _see_??

And this nonsense about a militia. He didn’t have a violent bone in his body. He was merely put in this world to guide and help those wizards who needed it. Like poor, poor Tom. And now, poor Henry. Who, as bad luck would have it, seemed to be doing an outstanding job of avoiding him at all costs. When this absurd trial rubbish was over, Albus would need to refocus his attention on the boy. There may be fewer (okay, no) members of the Order of the Phoenix left, but, by Merlin, he would bring young Henry over to the right side!

Sighing, Albus shook his head sadly. To even think that one would _imagine_ him capable of child neglect, abuse or the other violent acts he had been accused of. If anything, any of those actions should be viewed as 'benevolent' towards those whom they affected. He wasn't murdering, he was propagating the Greater Good. He was ensuring the future of their world! It was so sad when those who were on the wrong side of the light pushed their propaganda on others. This was just a case of too many people being told that someone was a bad person. This was persecution… plain and simple.

And, if Albus had to be a martyr for his cause? Well, that’s what he might end up being. But he was going to tell the truth, Merlin be damned! He was going to tell the world that Voldemort was still here. That their world was in _grave, grave danger_. Just as Alastor had always said, when he was still alive, rest his soul, constant vigilance!

There was one small niggling thought at the back of his mind, however. What was going to happen with this whole ‘theft of magic’ thing? He thought that it was hidden from the outside view. He thought that he had made _sure_ that no one outside of the actual school would _ever_ know of it. He knew the ward stone was destroyed from when he went to check. But, he had assumed that the school had just rebelled finally, making her presence known. He had worked so hard to keep her from being able to stop the leeching of magic. Albus wondered where it all went so very wrong.

He turned to face Fawkes, who was hiding his head under a wing… probably to avoid being pelted by lemon drops. Well, joke was on that foul fowl, Albus wouldn’t waste another lemon drop on that bird. He popped one in his mouth and grumbled. This was all going to the birds…

**\----------**

_One more to go…_

**\--- April 10 th, 1998 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Wizengamot – Trial of Albus Dumbledore ---**

Lucius banged his gavel on his podium. Harry rolled his eyes at the man. So pompous sitting up there. Lording over those below him in their seats. He snorted… ‘Lording’… get it?

The Wizengamot chamber slowly quieted down as it came to order. Most people were thrilled to be a part of this historical trial. One of their most illustrious and famous wizards, the vanquisher of Grindelwald. (Although, that would probably be debunked in this trial too. Harry couldn’t fuckin’ wait!) Oh, how the mighty have fallen. All that was left to do was to watch the dumpster fire burn.

Tom, wearing his ‘going out in public’ disguise as Harry’s magical aid/proxy/guardian… whatever he was going as at this point, sat next to Harry in the box for witnesses to be called. Harry would be called forth to present the evidence he ‘found’ in his distant relatives’ vaults. (More like, he would be presenting his mum’s journals and the evidence he heard from the bank. But he had his waterworks ready for when he needed to bring on any tears. The hardest part of this would be to stay calm from getting too angry at the fuckin’ asshole.)

“I will bring this special session of Wizengamot to order. We have been convened here on this day, the 10th of April, 1998, to allow Mr. Albus P. W. B. Dumbledore the ability to answer the charges brought against him.” Lucius glanced at Dumblefuck, who was shackled to the chair next to the podium. 

“Mr. Dumbledore, you have been charged with the following: coercion, extortion, inciting anti-governmental actions, attempting to lead a militia,” Lucius paused here as the Wizengamot gasped and started to murmur amongst themselves. He narrowed his eyes at the wizards and witches in the council, “We will have quiet! There are more charges to be stated.” He turned back to look at Fuckledore and continued, “You have also been charged with theft, attempted line theft, abuse and/or neglect of a minor child, assault with a deadly weapon, attempted murder, murder, and _finally_ you have been charged with the theft of _magic itself_ … how do you plead?”

Dumbledore looked at Lucius for a long moment and then spared a condescending gaze for the Wizengamot, “I am not guilty of any of these baseless charges, of course my good man. I am merely a victim…”

Lucius quickly interrupted him before the old goat could go on a forty minute long dissertation on the fuckin’ greater good of magic or some shit. Thank you fuckin’ Lucy! Good for somethin’ at least.

Lucius tented his fingers before his chin and spoke silkily, “We have looked into the strange number of deaths surrounding your school this year Mr. Dumbledore. You have numerous allegations coming forth regarding your ‘teaching methods’ as well as an extreme bias against one particular House.”

Dumbledore’s eyes held no twinkle and his jaw looked locked in frustration as he listened to Lucy continue on. “You have been propagating the idea that one sect of witches and wizards is ‘evil’ which is detrimental to the cohesiveness of our world. You have been accused of being subversive. Inciting a war when there is no one to fight. This council has found that through your word alone, Lord Sirius Black was condemned and sent into self-exile from the wizarding world. Your views on the supposed ‘dark creatures’ have enabled prejudice against those who are affected by lycanthropy, causing an entire minority to afraid of intermingling amongst their peers in the wizarding world. You have also been instrumental in denying any educational benefits to those magical creatures who do not fall into your societal norm.” 

Pausing to take a breath, Lucius shook his head sadly, “The worst of the offenses, however, is that you are accused of attacking the Longbottoms, incapacitating them completely for the rest of their lives. That you have murdered the Potters in their own home, and finally… that you, sir, _stole magic from our CHILDREN_!! A crime so heinous that it is punishable by the dementor’s kiss, should you be found guilty. We will hear of numerous witnesses from the prosecution.” He looked down at the parchments in front of him, shuffling them for a moment, before looking back at Dumbledore.

“It appears that there are no witnesses to be called for the defense. Is that correct Mr. Dumbledore?”

Dumbledore gritted his teeth and ground out, “It’s _Headmaster_ , and I would like to protest that I was unable to get my witnesses together in due time. I was not alerted to these proceedings, and therefore was unable to get my defense properly together.”

Lucius looked down his nose at Dumbledore. (Such a Malfoy gesture. You go Lucy!) “Sir, you are no longer ‘Headmaster’, until these matters are resolved, and according to Wizengamot _and_ ministry records, you were given the full five business days to respond to your charges. If you feel as if you have been slighted, you may appeal any issues at a later date. However, this court will proceed as it stands. With you not having any witnesses to call nor evidence to present.” (Not like he would have had that many witnesses to call anyway, since Harry had dispatched most of them.)

Harry thought that if he could, Lucius would have happily stuck his tongue out at the old fucker sitting in the defendant’s chair and blown a fuckin’ raspberry at him. He quietly cackled to himself, this was turning into a better show than Jerry fuckin’ Springer! He couldn’t wait until the actual witness testimonies and evidence was presented!

**\---**

The crowd noise was increasing in volume as they listened to their esteemed ‘Headmaster’ receive a severe dressing down from Lucius. The court was silenced again, and the prosecution brought forth their first witness. 

Minerva McGonagall took the stand. With a high-profile case like this, it was a given that all of the witnesses would be given Veritaserum. If they refused, they would be held in contempt and given a fine or other such crap. Harry hoped that Dumblefuck refused and then had to be force fed the shit.

After the truth serum took effect, the prosecutor asked, “Have you ever been witness to the defendant, Albus Dumbledore, using excessive force or coercion on an individual?”

“Yes,” she replied in monotone. “He has been forcing those who work with him to donate time and money to his cause, saying it is for the ‘greater good’ that we all focus our efforts on finding the Dark Lord Voldemort.”

“And has there been _any_ evidence that this ‘Lord Voldemort’ is still around?”

She slowly shook her head, “No, we have seen nothing since the night in 1981.”

“About that night, was it ever proven to you that it _was_ ‘Lord Voldemort’ who did the attacks on the Potter family?”

Harry could tell that McGonagall tried to say something to help out Dumbledore’s side, but the truth serum forced out the truth, “There was never any proof given that the attacks were by Lord Voldemort, no.”

“Would you say that Mr. Dumbledore has spent years trying to spread fear and incite people into violence against those wizards he considers ‘evil’?”

She pursed her lips and slowly nodded, “Yes, he tells us who is bad and makes us work against them in any way we can.”

“Thank you,” he turned to Dumbledore and gave a sharp nod, “your witness.”

Dumbledore sagged in his seat, miserable that his trusted Deputy Headmistress, now the actual Headmistress, was turning on him. He waved his hand and refused to ask any questions of the woman. Lucius allowed her to step down, after the antidote was given. The woman’s face was pale and she _knew_ that more would come out about the man that she had so willingly followed.

**\---**

“We call Heir Neville Longbottom to the stand.”

Neville walked timidly up to the stand and received his truth serum. He glanced covertly up where Harry was sitting. Harry could tell that he was nervous about accidentally saying something he shouldn’t. They had the list of questions the prosecution was asking, the spells were set in place, and to double down, Severus had ensured that Neville had a slight defense against Veritaserum. It was nice having a potion master on their side.

After the preliminary questions were asked to verify his identity, the prosecution asked, “Heir Longbottom, what was your duty in this Order of the Phoenix?”

“I was being trained to take on Lord V..Vol..Voldemort.”

“And had you ever _seen_ any evidence that this supposed Lord Voldemort existed?”

Neville shook his head, “No. Never. I was only told that he was bad, and I was the only one who could defeat him because of the prophecy.”

“Let’s get into your ‘training’ for a moment. Who said you needed to be trained, and trained you?”

“Headmaster Dumbledore said that it was my duty to save the world. He made me train with ‘Mad Eye’ Moody, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger,” Neville told the Wizengamot, staring straight ahead to show that the drugs were ‘working’ in his system. They were probably only half as powerful as normal with the dampener that Severus had provided.

“None of which are alive anymore, isn’t that true? And what did your training consist of?”

Neville indicated a negative response, “No, they are all dead. My training with them mostly was me being hit with various curses, trying to survive. I was taught some defensive magic, but the Headmaster and Mad Eye wanted me to focus on being able to withstand the unforgivables. I was eventually able to withstand thirty seconds of the _Cruciatus_.”

Gasps were heard through the chamber. Their leader of the light was condoning the torture of a child!! No matter what the reason, he was at fault. 

“Did the ex-Headmaster ever cast these on you himself?”

“No,” Neville said, “He had others do it. He said that they would make sure that I knew how to withstand the pain of fighting against the evil You-Know-Who.”

“Did the ex-Headmaster ever cast _any_ spells on you that you know of?”

“I am not totally sure; however, I have been examined by St. Mungo’s and have been told that I have had numerous _Confundus Charms_ as well as quite a few _Obliviates_ done to me. I could not tell you the person who did them myself, but the magical signature was on file as the Headmaster,” Neville explained.

At this point Harry was almost bouncing in his seat with excitement. Neville was a fuckin’ rockstar at being a witness.

“Finally, you were present when a warding stone was discovered within Hogwarts, were you not?”

“Yes.”

“Did you know what this warding stone did? And who it was tethered to?”

Neville slowly bobbed his head in assent, “Yes, it was pulling magic out of the students in the school. I did not know who it was tethered to, but after we destroyed it, it became evident that it belonged to the Headmaster because he seemed to just shrivel from his former self.” 

Oh yay!!! That was _exactly_ how they had rehearsed it! Harry was so happy that the partial antidote worked so that Neville could stick with the script. Now if he could just avoid saying anything bad during Fuckledore’s cross examination.

“Your witness, Mr. Dumbledore.”

Dumbledore rose from his chair, grumbling under his breath about the fact that his titles were still in use and he should be addressed as such.

“Young man,” Dumbledore started, only to be interrupted by the prosecution.

“Objection, Heir Longbottom is a higher-ranking individual in the House of Lords and therefore should be referred to as his title by Mr. Dumbledore throughout the entirety of this trial.”

Lucius was _obviously_ holding back a sneer and agreed quickly, “Sustained. _Mr._ Dumbledore, you will refer to the witness with his title only. No potentially demeaning titles or informal names will be allowed.”

Dumbledore clenched his jaw and mumbled that he had known Neville since he was a baby, but fine… for the sake of the trial. He sighed a very put-upon sigh. “ _Heir Longbottom_ , you say that I made you train, but we both know that you wanted to train for the safety of the wizarding world, don’t we?” He leaned back with a smile on his face, sure of the answer that his savior was going to say.

“No. I did not want to fight. I wanted to work in herbology,” Neville denied.

“Wha… Uh, of _course_ you did, my dear boy. But you knew you also needed to fight for the light, am I right?” Dumbledore attempted to cajole out the right answer from Neville.

But bless his fighting Gryffindor spirit, Neville held his ground. “No. I did not want to do anything you asked me to do. You told me I had to. You told the other students that I needed to be hurt. You hurt me. You made Mad Eye hurt me. You told me it was for the ‘greater good’, but I never saw that. I would go back to my dorm at night covered in cuts and bruises, shaking from the _Cruciatus_ that I had been held under. I still do not know why I was doing all of this, except for that you said I had to.”

Dumbledore’s jaw had slackened in shock as Neville spoke. He obviously wasn’t going to get anything out of Neville to work for his defense. He shook his head in disappointment and sighed, “I have nothing else to ask this child.”

“Objection! The witness is to be referred to as Heir Longbottom!”

Dumbledore glared at the prosecutor.

**\---**

“Professor Snape, you were told to spy for the ex-Headmaster? On whom?”

Sev looked straight ahead, showing the Wizengamot chamber that the Veritaserum had definitely taken effect. “I was coerced into spying on an ex-Slytherin named Tomas Riddle, who Mr. Dumbledore was convinced was a tyrannical wizard bent on wizarding world domination through nefarious means and violence against light wizard. He told me that if I did not do this, he would turn me in as a follower of dark wizards. He said that only he could protect me from being held partially responsible for the murders of Lord James Potter and his wife Lady Potter.”

“Good, let us delve into the night the Potters were killed for a moment, Professor Snape. You were informed who had been at fault?”

Harry was happy that Sev was under partial Veritaserum because otherwise he had a feeling that the stoic man might have a rough time talking about that night. He still missed Harry’s birth mother _so_ much. Of course, if Harry had to leave Luna or Frank, he would miss the _fuck_ out of them too. 

“I was told that it was Lord Sirius Black who betrayed the Potters to a man called Lord Voldemort,” Severus stated.

“And do you have knowledge that it was these people who were at fault?”

Severus looked like he would have snorted at the question if he wasn’t currently drugged. “Lord Black was out with his friend Remus Lupin at the time, so I know that he was not present at the Potters’ home in Godric Hollow. I know that the one that I was spying on, Tomas Riddle, was out of the country at the time, so there was no way that he could be there either.”

“Why did you not come forward earlier?”

The fight not to say the words was evident on Severus’ face, but apparently even with the partial antidote that he had taken, he was forced to speak. “Dumbledore held my future in his hands. He had me performing too many illegal activities at that point, and he said that he would turn me in and put the blame on me as well. He said that he would say that I was in on the plot with Lord Black and Mr. Lupin. We were, after all, acquaintances at school.”

“ _Do_ you know who killed the Potters?”

“I can tell you with 100% assurance that Albus Dumbledore had a hand in the deaths of James and Lily Potter. I was not there that night, but I do know that they were terrified that something would happen to them, and he would be at fault,” Severus told Wizengamont, amongst their murmuring and gasps.

“How do you know?”

“The wills of both of them were read and in there both said that they were scared of the man and he would probably hurt them. Gringotts has all of this on file from the will reading in August of 1996.”

“Let’s talk about the magic leeching ward stone for a moment, how did you deal with that?”

Severus’ mouth barely ticked up in a smile and Harry could tell that the dampener was very much in effect. There would be no issue from here on out about what Severus said.

“Hogwarts is a sentient building and told one of the students that there was a leeching magic within her walls. She told him where it was. When he discovered it, he automatically came to me, his Head of House, and along with three other students, we dispelled the cancerous ward stone.”

The prosecutor paused for a moment, gauging the room’s reaction, before he continued, “Why did you not alert the other staff, and instead use children?”

They had all agreed that the best route would be to tell the partial truth regarding the whole warding stone situation. Still, Harry’s body stiffened slightly, waiting for Sev’s answer.

“I knew that the then Headmaster was not as blameless as he showed, so I did not think I could trust him. The other professors followed him blindly, so I did not feel as if I could go to them either. I chose to use the children because one of them discovered it, and then he told the others. They all came to me and asked to help. Only after we had performed the cleansing did I think to let the Ministry and DMLE know,” Severus said, making Harry fuckin’ proud with his decent explanation. It covered everything in a fairly decent explanation.

“And the leech’s originator? Who was that?”

“I only discovered after the magic started to seep back into the school that it was Albus Dumbledore who was feeling the most effects.”

“Your witness.”

Dumbledore sighed and slowly rose from his chair. “Severus, my boy…”

“Objection!!”

Lucius narrowed his eyes, “Mr. Dumbledore, you have been warned. Refrain from informalities in this Wizengamot session.”

Letting out a frustrated breath, Dumbledore began again. “Professor Snape, who was this student who came to you with all of this information?”

Harry crossed his fingers and sat on them in hope that Sev would be able to navigate the old asshole’s questioning. There were quite a few areas where this could all go wrong.

“Lord Henry Castiglione, one of my Slytherins, came to inform me of the situation,” Severus almost sneered at the asshole.

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled like he had found a fuckin’ nugget of gold in a pile of shit. “And would you agree that there have been _numerous_ strange occurrences in and around our school since Lord Castiglione has moved here?”

“Objection! Subjective to the witness. There is no base definition on what the Professor deems strange as opposed to the _ex_ -Headmaster.”

Lucius bit back a grin, “Sustained.” He glanced at the Wizengamot and droned regally, “You will disregard the mention of ‘strange occurrences’.” He then ordered Dumbledore, “You will refrain from subjective questions and keep to facts, Mr. Dumbledore.”

The twinkle died down in Dumbledore’s eyes and he clenched his jaw for a moment before continuing, “Fine, do you know if Lord Castiglione has had anything to do with the numerous deaths surrounding the school this year?”

Harry held his breath.

Severus slowly shook his head, “I can say with 100% positivity that ‘Lord Castiglione’ had _absolutely nothing_ to do with any of the deaths or supposed strange occurrences that happened this year.”

Almost letting out a relieved snort, Harry realized that Sev had spoken the truth!! Fuckin’ Lord Castiglione didn’t exist! Therefore, he _couldn’t_ have done any of that shit. HOoollly shit! Fuckin’ AWESOME! Dumbleass was goin’ down!

Harry watched as Dumbledore visibly deflated at Sev’s words. Bummer… must feel shitty to watch your world crumble around you.

**\---**

“Mr. Ragnok, you state that the wills were sealed? By whom?”

Ragnok glared at Wizengamot and sniffed in annoyance, “I am Ragnok. The term Mister is beneath me. Call me Director, call me warrior, do not attach one of your ‘human’ titles to me. But, yes, the wills were sealed by the then Chief Warlock, Albus Dumbledore.”

“The court’s apologies, Warrior Director Ragnok. Now, do you know why the wills were sealed?”

Snorting at the combined title, Ragnok said, “He said it was for the good of the wizarding world. He then took charge of the Potter child’s accounts and custody of the minor child. He instructed that if anyone should ask, the wills were opened in Gringotts and then sealed again. Those employees who dealt with the account have been… terminated.”

Harry cackled behind his hand. ‘Terminated’… right. They were terminated all right, however they ‘would _not_ be back’.

“Do you know what happened to the child? To the accounts?”

“The child was apparently given to some distant human relatives of the mother. The wizarding world never saw the child, Harry James Potter, again. The then Headmaster and Chief Warlock Dumbledore instructed the Gringotts employees who were in charge of the accounts to transfer the monthly limit to a list of people who were given to the bank,” Ragnok snarled as he sent a glare Dumbledore’s way.

“And the names on that list? What happened to them?”

Ragnok’s lip curled in a scornful smirk, “Regretfully, the bank can no longer get in touch with them, as most have regrettably died over the past year. The others on the list have had issues with their accounts at Gringotts, of course for a totally different issue than the one at hand.”

“Of course.”

Dumbledore hung his head in defeat and refused to even make eye contact with the goblin.

**\---**

“Lord Castiglione, you were at the reading of the Potters’ wills. Were you told why those were read when the Wizengamot has already heard testimony that the wills were supposedly sealed?”

Harry felt the drugs in his system, fighting each other, but he still felt compelled to speak mostly the truth. “I was told that the wills were made after the ‘official’ ones because James and Lily Potter were scared of the Headmaster. They thought that he was going to do something bad to them, so they made secret wills and filed them with Gringotts without anyone knowing. It wasn’t until I came over here that I found out about the fact that they were killed, and their will hadn’t been read.”

“And do you have any other proof about the fact that the Potters supposedly were scared for their lives?”

Harry took a deep breath, “There were journals from before the kid was born, telling of how the family was worried about the way things were turning. I brought those journals with me.”

“Let the court acknowledge the receipt of the journals of Lily Potter into evidence. Wizengamot has been supplied with copies of the pertinent passages.”

Harry bit back a grin as he watched Dumbledore sink further and further into his chair. The lack of the leeching magic made him look sallow and weak. The fact that he was having his ass handed to him in court made him look like a fuckin’ dicknoodle. And Harry? He was fuckin’ L.O.V.I.N.G. it!

**\---**

“Mr. Dumbledore, did you coerce people to follow you into a futile war of your own fantastic making against someone who had never actually done anything illegal?”

Dumbledore blustered a moment before being forced to spit out a succinct, “Yes.”

“And did you intentionally steal from these individuals?”

“Yes.”

“Were you instrumental in the abuse and potential neglect of minor children, including Heir Neville Longbottom, Heir Harry Potter, the now grown Tomas Riddle, Severus Snape, and countless others from a specific House in Hogwarts, Slytherin?”

Harry watched Dumbledore grit his teeth against the Veritaserum before it again forced out a angry, “Yes.”

“Were you present at the time of the murders of the Potters?”

“Yes.”

Wizengamot as a whole was holdin’ their fuckin’ breath at each answer. They could have skipped the entire fukin’ trial and just put the asshole on the stand to spill his fuckin’ guts. 

“Did you perform said murders?”

“Yes.” Dumbledore was glaring something stupid at Lucius and the other members of Wizengamot.

"Were your claims that there was a betrayal by the Lord Sirius Black and one Mr. Tomas Riddle true in the murders of the Potters?" 

Dumbledore pinched his lips together in an attempt to keep quiet, but his body forced him to speak. "No." 

“Since you have been accused of so many counts of each crime, we will accept just the one count for each, however the court does reserve the right to investigate further into the claims that Mr. Dumbledore orchestrated the torture and attempted murder of the Longbottoms on that same night." The prosecutor faced Wizengamot and droned, "And, since the actual alleged perpetrator of said crimes is deceased, it is understood that a full trial will not be able to be completed. However, we can still question Mr. Dumbledore regarding the murder of Mr. Alastor Moody."

He turned back to Dumbledore and asked, "Did you willfully and knowingly cause the death of Mr. Alastor Moody and then attempt to hide the body on the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"

Narrowing his eyes into a glare that would cause any other person to shrink away, Fuckledore tried to stay quiet. He pursed his lips and Harry could tell that he was doing his utmost to stop the words from exiting his mouth. Unfortunately they came out. "Yes, I killed the man. He had become a liability."

Gasps filled the hall again. Wizengamot was _finally_ seeing just what a horrible man they had held in such esteem was. They were seeing the so called good facade being peeled away to reveal the rotten man beneath it all.

The prosecutor ignored the noise in the hall, probably because he knew he had saved the best for last. "And finally, did you knowingly create a ward stone inside the hallowed halls of Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry for the specific purpose of leeching magic from the students within?"

The entire fuckin' hall went dead silent as Dumblefuck fought the answer.

Finally, he whispered out, “Yes.”

Wizengamot erupted! Yells, shouts that he should be burned at the stake. (Did they _do_ that here???) Shouts for the Dementor’s kiss! Lucius banged his gavel in an attempt to silence the masses. Tom sat beside him with a distinctive evil fuckin' smirk. 

Harry leaned back in his chair and fuckin’ beamed. There were still a couple more things to do, but the man sitting over there in the defendant’s chair? He was fuckin’ ruined. He was guilty in the eyes of the people and of Wizengamot. There was no coming back from this. He was lower than a shit stain on the bottom of Harry's boot. 

And that knowledge felt so… fuckin’… good…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Also, please remember that I hate Wizengamot crud, so the entirety of the trial is not written out. I just put in the most important/interesting snippets to me. Some information will have to be read into it. Please don't fuss at me if I glossed over something you thought should be explained more or for something that I didn't add in. We all know Dumbledore is evil, he did horrible things and the trial shows everyone that._ 😁
> 
> 1. Tolkien, J. R. R. The Fellowship of the Rings, _pub. 1954_
> 
> Movies/TV Quoted/Referenced:
> 
>   1. The Jerry Springer Show (TV - 1991-2018)
>   2. The Terminator (1984) 
> 



	44. On Tying Up the Final Loose End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> * “Beware the fury of a patient man." - John Dryden
> 
> * “To exact revenge for yourself or your friends is not only a right, it's an absolute duty.” - Stieg Larsson
> 
> * “There is no such thing as justice, all the best that we can hope for is revenge.” - Emilie Autumn
> 
> * “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. a burn for a burn. a life for a life. that's how all this got started. and that's how it's going to end.” - Jenny Han, Fire with Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaahhh, the sweet, sweet taste of revenge. Enjoy! 💜 **Trigger Warnings** at end of chapter.

**\--- And So The Headlines For The Next Days Read: ---**

**F ORMER HEADMASTER FOUND GUILTY ON NUMEROUS COUNTS OF HEINOUS CRIMES!**  
** Ex-Headmaster Found Guilty of Crimes Too Numerous to Count!**  
**Claims Innocence while Avoiding Severe Backlash from Wizarding World!**  
**_More Crimes Have Come to Light as Victims Come Forward!_  
**

_**A** hush filled the Wizengamot chamber as the crimes of the former Headmaster were read. As each witness took the stand, and there were numerous, the damning evidence showed our previously esteemed Leader of the Light as a worse evil than the Dark Lord he had supposedly defeated._

_**W** hen the final witness was called and Mr. Dumbledore himself took the stand, the wizarding world finally discovered how deep the man’s evil was. “If magical cores were shown to every wizard as you walked by, Dumbledore would be a giant ball of black,” one Wizengamot member was overheard saying. Another mentioned that after the third count of assault and endangering minor children by leeching magic, they became physically nauseus and almost requested a break in the session. “I couldn’t believe that anyone would ever steal magic from our children! M*****! The man’s an bl**** abomination!”_

_**T** he sentencing of Mr. Dumbledore has yet to take place, however this reporter has it on good authority that the Dementor’s kiss is on the table as the punishment for his numerous crimes. Most believe that it is not enough. Wizengamot will reconvene to hand down the sentence, led by Lord Lucius A. Malfoy, Chief Warlock. The Prophet is invested in this story and will (Article Continued pg. 2)_

**\----------**

**L ORD SIRIUS ORION BLACK INNOCENT, ACCORDING TO WIZENGAMOT TRIAL EVIDENCE!**  
** Ex-Headmaster Spills All His Secrets and Lies! Removed from Wizengamot in Shroud of Shame! **  
**_Lord Black Exonerated After False Allegations from a Phony Leader are Finally Brought to Light!_  
**

_**A** fter yesterday’s Wizengamont trial of Ex-Headmaster, Ex-Supreme Mugwump, Ex-Grand Sorcerer, and Ex-Holder of the Order of Merlin (First Class) Albus P. W. B. Dumbledore, the wizarding world discovered the full extent of the man’s lies. He had falsely accused Lord Black and one Mr. Tomas M. Riddle of being instrumental in the murders of the Potter family. Murders that Mr. Dumbledore himself committed._

_**L** ord Black has been overheard saying, “I have always maintained my innocence, even when I was not able to return to the wizarding world. It is wonderful to have my freedom to return to Britain and work with the Ministry and Wizengamot to heal the hurts from the massive amount of crimes Dumbledore did.”_

_**O** ur readers will remember that Lord Black was part of a group of friends that included the late Lord James Fleamont Potter, who was murdered October 31st, 1981, by Mr. Dumbledore. The two friends of the group left, Lord Black and Mr. Remus Lupin, have banded together to work on a charity to honor the death of their friends. Professor Severus Snape has also been instrumental in (Article Continued pg. 3)_

**\----------**

**M INISTER CORNELIUS FUDGE RESIGNS AMONGST TALKS OF INEPTITUDE AND CORRUPTION!**  
** Minister Has Too Many Ties to Ex-Headmaster!**  
**Trust in Minister at All-Time Low!**  
**_Lord Lucius Abraxas Malfoy to Selflessly Step in and Take the Vacant Position in the Interim!_  
**

_**E** x-Minister Cornelius Fudge has left the Ministry of Magic amidst a fog of shame. “There were too many ties to the Ex-Headmaster and his dubious works. A lot of information came to light during Mr. Dumbledore’s trial, and some of that linked back to the former Minster for Magic. We, as a whole, do not want or deserve a Minister who is not looking out for the best interests of the wizarding world,” one Wizengamot member, who wished to remain anonymous, told this reporter. When asked what they thought of the new interim Minister, the member seemed pleased with the choice. “We deserve someone who will hold our beliefs true and follow the laws. Lord Malfoy has been a good Chief Warlock and I can see that he will continue that record with working as the interim Minister.”_

_**W** e are happy to announce that Lord Malfoy will be taking over the position immediately, as he was quickly voted in after Fudge retired in disgrace. His record in the Ministry has been impeccable and he has backing from almost 2/3 of the Wizengamot. He was not available for interview, however the office of the Minister for Magic has released the following statement:_

> _**T** he Ministry is pleased to announce the swearing in of the new Minister for Magic, Lord Lucius Abraxas Malfoy. Although this is an interim position, Lord Malfoy has expressed the desire to make his position a permanent one. We, at the Ministry, are looking forward to how Minister Malfoy will bring the British Wizarding World into the next century. (Article Continued pg. 4)_

**\----------**

**“I WILL NOT FOLLOW IN MY PREDECESSOR’S FOOTSTEPS.” - THE MINERVA MCGONAGALL STORY**  
**_The Story of How the Current Headmistress Followed the Wrong Man,  
and How She Is Slowly Making Up for His Crimes Against Hogwarts and Its Students._  
**

_**I** n a rare open interview, the current Acting Headmistress for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry spoke out about her life under the thumb of her predecessor. She talks about how she and others spent years listening to the lies that the previous Headmaster spoke, and how they believed everything that he said about the ‘Greater Good.’_

_**H** er bravery in coming forward while the wizarding world is in turmoil after the Wizengamot trial of Mr. Albus Dumbledore is commendable. We at the Prophet understand that it will take time for all of us to recover from the heinous crimes that the evil wizard perpetrated._

_**T** o read the entire interview, turn to pg. 7._

**\----------**

**P OTTER HEIRLOOMS TO GO TO FAMILY AND FRIENDS!**  
** The Current Lord in Charge of the Potter Estate Wants to Make Sure Their Friends Receive Heirlooms and Property. **  
**_Lord Castiglione Has Generously Ensured that Friends of the Potters are Able to Reconnect with Their Deceased Loved Ones._  
**

_**I** n an uncommon show of genuine care and understanding, the current Lord in charge of the Potter estates has gifted numerous heirlooms to the Potters’ friends. Lord Black, Mr. Lupin and Professor Snape have each received precious gifts and treasures from the vaults of the Potters. Lord Black has gone on record stating that, “Lord Castiglione did not, in any way, have to gift these items to us. He did so because he knew that we were very close friends with the Potters and would appreciate them the most. He did not ask for any payment for these gifts, and we appreciate the thought he put into this.”_

_**T** his reporter has learned that among the items gifted are photographs, old school ‘treasures’, journals, and even some lost owl communications. Although we have not been privy to the contents of the communications, this reporter can only assume that they are addressed to those who received them._

_**L** ord Castiglione was not available for comment. It is rumored that after this turn of events, he will not be returning to finish his year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It has been suggested that he will complete his education with private tutors, citing that he does not feel comfortable staying in a place with such turbulent history and a penchant for violence. Lord Castiglione's representative at the bank, who also refused to give an interview, issued the following statement:_  


> _“ **L** ord Castiglione understands the gravity of the entire situation surrounding the Potters. He expresses his condolences to those who knew them, and because of this, he has decided to gift much of their estate to those who knew them best. He requests that any inquiries into the estate or the Potters be directed to the account manager at Gringotts, Ragnok. However, as his representative at Gringotts, I can assure you that I, Ragnok, will not be answering any inquiries. Lord Castiglione has chosen to retreat from the public eye, you will be cognizant and respect his wishes to remove himself from the situation.” _

_**W** e at the Prophet are proud to accept Lord Castiglione into the British Wizarding Community, should he decide to stay. (See Article on pg. 3 regarding arrival of Lord Henry Castiglione) This entire situation has caused much pain for those involved, and to see someone so young invested in helping those who (Article Continued pg. 5)_

**\----------**

**S TAY OUT OF GRINGOTTS UNLESS THERE ON OFFICIAL BUSINESS!**  
** Goblins Warn that Wizards Should Not Come to Ask About Trial Information! **  
**_Director Ragnok States He Will Not Suffer Wizards Who Attempt to Stall Business Dealings!_  
**

_**A** warning to all of those who want to interrogate the goblin who helped out during the trial of Mr. A. P. W. B. Dumbledore… STAY AWAY! Gringotts has issued a statement informing the wizarding world that there will be severe repercussions should ‘gawkers’ and ‘loiterers’ be discovered._

> _**“W** e do not care about the machinations of humans. Stay out of our bank unless you have legitimate business here. We will not tolerate useless questions and pestering. Extra guards have been posted. You have been warned.” _

_**T** hat was the statement released the day after the Wizengamot trial for Mr. A. P. W. B. Dumbledore. The guilty verdict, along with the knowledge that Director Ragnok, or Warrior Director Ragnok – as he asked the Wizengamot to refer to him as, was instrumental in bringing forth evidence that further damned the ex-Headmaster. Warrior Director Ragnok was not available for comment, and this reporter fears that if more questions or interviews are requested, the consequences could be (Article Continued pg. 6)_

**\----------**

**H EIR LONGBOTTOM IN LOVE!! **  
** A Story of Recovery and One Heir’s Love of Herbology! **  
**_“I’m Using the Plants to Find Solace as I Move Past the Ex-Headmaster’s Abuse.”_  
**

_**T** hese days you can find Heir Neville Longbottom among the greenhouses of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He is learning about the various plants and herbs from the Herbology Professor Pomona Sprout. Neville states that working with plants has been “the best form of recovery from {his} abusive training at the hands of the {ex} Headmaster.” This reporter can tell you, dear reader, that the clean air and working with the soil has definitely helped this young Gryffindor grow into his own._

_**W** hen asked about the trial and what his thoughts were about his abuser, Heir Longbottom shook his head sadly. “I looked up to him. I thought he was the good leader he pretended to be. Luckily I was shown the error of my ways, and no other students will ever have to deal with what I went through.”_

_**T** his reporter also asked about the prophecy and his supposed status as the ‘Savior of the Wizarding World’, a replacement from the missing and considered deceased Heir Harry J. Potter. (See pg. 7 for full article on Heir Potter) Heir Longbottom replied that he was “no savior to anyone. {He} just wants to live {his} life.” He did say that if there were a genuine threat in the future, the wizarding world could count on him to (Article Continued pg. 3)_

**\----------**

_And that knowledge felt so… fuckin’… good…_

**\--- April 11 th, 1998 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Azkaban Prison (Evening) – Solitary Confinement ---**

It was good to have friends in high places. Harry was escorted through an almost empty area of Azkaban prison toward the cell containing one Albus Dumbleass, asshole supreme. Yaxley, one of Tom’s awesome followers, who also just _happened_ to be the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, had ensured that no matter what happened, Harry would not be disturbed.

The prison was fuckin’ cold, but luckily all of the nasty ass Dementors were being kept away from where he was for the time being. Lucius and Tom must have had a little chat with Yaxley so that he would ensure that the whole thing was set up for Harry to have a little fun… like he said, it was _good_ to have friends in high places.

He reached the cell that Fuckledore was in and just peered at the old man. Shaking his head at how far the old man had fallen, he took in the man’s haggard appearance, his scraggly beard, his very much lack of a stupid fuckin’ twinkle in his eyes. It looked like the ex-Headmaster had aged yet another 50 years after the trial. Harry snorted to himself. Must be real fuckin’ shitty to be stuck in solitary confinement, in a cold ass prison, with Dementors flying around suckin’ out all your happiness. (Not that the old man _had_ much happiness left.)

Yep, this was awesome to see.

Conjuring a chair, Harry sat down outside the cell and watched as Dumbledore noticed his presence. He seemed visibly shocked for a moment, then confusion spread across his face.

“Henry? Henry, my boy, what are you doing here? Have you come to help an old man out?” He shook his head and twisted his hands together, attempting to get warm. “It is so very cold in here, my child. Did you bring me something to warm myself?”

Harry smirked cruelly at the man and shook his head. He gestured to his cloak and tactical outfit while chuckling. “Nah, old man, I’m warm enough in my shit. Don’t feel any need to make things warmer for you. You’ll be just fine through this conversation… it shouldn’t be _that_ long anyway.”

Dumbledore scrutinized him with a concerned look on his face, obviously unused to being spoken to that way. But undeterred, he continued, “And _why_ have you come to visit me, dear boy? Do you have good news? Are you going to fight for me to be free? Has new information come to light to prove my innocence? You know that I _am_ innocent, child. I would never do such heinous things that they accused me of.”

Rolling his eyes at that little speech, Harry leaned back in his chair and crossed his feet as his ankles. He crossed his arms over his chest which pulled his cloak to the side, showing off his white painted skull on his black shirt.

“You see, Dumblefuck,” Harry sneered. He watched as the old man reared back in shock at his words and let out a nasty laugh. “You see, I do have some new information for you. Some information that I’m pretty sure that you will _love_ to hear.”

As if he hadn't even heard Harry's 'mispronunciation' of his name, Dumbledore gushed, “Oh good, dear boy! I knew that there were a few good wizards left who knew that we must continue to fight for the greater good. I just knew it. Give an old wizard the good news, it will help my tired heart.” Dumbledore even managed to say all of that bullshit with a small smile.

Harry snorted in contempt at the man. “Nah, fuck that noise. No good news for you. This is going to go my way, asshat. You see, this is the part of the movie where the villain… that’s me – or you, depending on how you look at it… gets to tell his whole nefarious plot while the victim… that’s you – well, or me, depending on how you look at it… sits there and tries to escape while listening. But I doubt you will be escaping. I _really_ fuckin' doubt it. And, since you’re my captive audience, thanks to this wonderful little cell and the great aurors who happen to be helping me out, you get to listen to the whole fuckin’ sordid tale.”

Dumbledore looked confused again at Harry’s words. “What could possibly make you a victim, my child. Not me, surely. I would most definitely remember if I had ever done anything to you, dear boy.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, drop the act you insane old shit head. I know what you really are, and I know what you’ve done. In fact,” Harry snarled at him, “I know fuckin’ better than _anyone else_ in this world how fuckin’ horrible you are.” Taking a deep, fortifying breath, Harry pressed on. “Now, a la a James Bond villain, let’s get this thing started. Too bad I couldn’t put you over a tank of fuckin’ sharks, but we’ll get to the torture in a few. Remember, I need to get my tale of misery and abuse out first. Must follow the script. Dead would be disappointed if I didn’t.”

He tented his fingers under his chin and leaned his elbows on his knees. Lifting a corner of his mouth in scorn, he taunted the man. “Perhaps this would all be a little easier if I introduced myself.” He stood and bowed deeply, giving the man in the cell an evil smile full of teeth. “Mr. Harry James Potter, at your service.”

Dumbledore gasped in surprise as Harry sat back down and observed him with disdain. “Yep, it’s me. The kid whose parents you _murdered_. The kid who you left on a fuckin’ doorstep in the middle of the goddamn night. The kid you left with shitty ass relatives to get beat, abused, starved, worked to fuckin’ death. The kid whose life you _ruined_.”

Choking on his words, Dumbledore shook his head in denial. “Harry, my child, you have returned! We can fix all of this now. You need not worry anymore. We can tell them all what really happened.” He paused for a moment and attempted an eye twinkle, “But, I do not know what you are accusing me of, child. I had nothing to do with your parents. And I wanted to _save_ you from that horrible situation. I wanted you to be in a loving environment. I did nothing wrong, my boy, but put you with people who would love you and cherish you.”

“Love!” Harry spat at the man. “Right, right. ‘All you need is love.’ John Lennon. Smart man. Shot in the back, very sad.” He glared at Dumbledore, “Do you even remember that night? I don’t. I was too young. But I remember my first beating by my ‘loving’ uncle. I couldn’t figure out what I had done wrong. Apparently, I didn’t make his toast right. Just so you know… I was _four_.”

Harry pulled a knife out from its sheath and started to flip it in his hand. “Do you know how many scars I got while I lived with those ‘loving relatives’?”

Dumbledore shrank back at the appearance of the knife and shook his head in fear, “My boy, Harry, remember that I did this for you. I did this so that you could be great! So that you could fight the evil in the world. So that you could fulfill the prophecy!”

“Huh, the prophecy?” Harry asked shrewdly. “The one you and that fraud made up? Or the one that said I’d come out of the fuckin’ violence and torment I grew up in to eradicate _you_ from this world?”

At this point Dumbledore’s eyes had widened and he was shaking bodily from fear (and probably from the cold.) “You know?” He whispered.

Harry snorted, “Of course I know. Remember? This is my script. Where I tell you all the gory details of what I’ve found out. About how I know all the horrible shit you’ve done.”

Looking defeated, Dumbledore mumbled, “I’m sorry you think that way, child. I’m sorry. I might have been slightly remiss in the way I dealt with the situation.”

“Slightly remiss... slightly?? Fuckin’ seriously?” Harry took a deep breath through his nose and breathed out harshly into the cold hallway. His breath formed a fog in front of him. He stood from his chair and walked closer to the cell bars and sneered. “Did you ever hear the philosophy that once a man admits that he’s wrong, he is immediately forgiven for all wrongdoings? Newsflash, it’s not true. I’m not the forgiving sort. I’m more the ‘kill everyone who ever did me or my family wrong’ sort.”

Dumbledore scrabbled back from where Harry stood and stuttered out weakly, “You.. you were the one who killed everyone. You caused all of this.”

“Nope,” Harry snarled at the man, “ _You_ caused all of this. _You_ made me what I am. _You_ and only you are to blame.”

Reaching into his side holster he pulled out his handgun and pointed it at the pathetic wizard. Aiming low, he fired a shot at the man’s ankle, blowing out the joint in a shower of blood and bone. Dumbledore cried out in pain as the shot hit and then fell forward, clutching his ankle in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

“See, this… this is where you fall down. Where you figure out in that fucked up holier than thou brain of yours that your plans didn’t work. Where finally realize that you lost and where we fuckin’ won,” Harry scoffed while observing Dumbledore’s pain.

He raised his gun again and shot clean through Dumbledore’s shoulder as the man kneeled, hunched over in pain. Dumbledore jerked back as the bullet hit him, grabbing onto the injured shoulder and gritting his teeth against the agony of the wounds. Harry just smirked at the old man’s discomfort.

“You know,” Harry said to the whimpering mass of the ex-Headmaster, “I had plans to give you the same scars that I got… one for every single time that I was hurt at the hands of the _loving_ relatives you sent me to live with. But I doubt we have time. Instead, I’ll just take you apart… one… bullet… at a time.”

Dumbledore tried to cower into the corner of his cell, but there was no escape from Harry who was hell bent on revenge. He aimed at the other shoulder and shot, making two matching holes. Harry sighed sadly that he wouldn’t be able to go in and string up the fucker through those holes, but at least he was able to play this out for a little while.

“I beg you to stop this, Harry! I beg of you. I did nothing that wouldn’t benefit the world. I was working for the greater good! Think of the greater good! Think of the light!” Dumbledore cried out as he attempted once again to shrink away from Harry.

“Think of the greater good?” Harry mocked pitilessly. “Nah, I’ll think of the fuckin’ horrible shit you did in the name of the ‘greater good’. Fuck! That sounds like some Nazi propaganda crap. I can’t believe that so many sheep followed your preaching. Jesus Christ.” 

He shook his head in disbelief and came closer to the bars. “I think it ironic that you sit there begging me. I begged. Did you know that? I begged for the longest time for someone to save me. For someone to hear me. And you had people who could have saved me there… watching, doing _nothing_. It wasn’t until I finally found someone who saw how horrible my life was that it changed. And guess what! It wasn’t a damn wizard. It wasn’t someone in your fuckin’ group for the ‘greater good’. It was someone who has done more good for me than _anyone_ in this fuckin’ world has.” 

Grunting in annoyance at the fact that he was getting a little too emotional about remembering his time with the Dursleys, he took out his frustration by quickly shooting two more rounds into Dumbledore, taking out both the man’s kneecaps as he knelt on the ground.

Dumbledore cried out for help, for someone to save him as he rolled on his back in agony. Blood had seeped out all over the floor of the cell. Harry reached into his pocket and removed the cell key, unlocking the door and walking in. His boots traipsed through the bloody smears and bone chips that Dumbledore's wounds had made on the floor.

Leaning imposingly over the prone man, Harry chuckled maliciously. “You know they’re not gonna come help, you fuckin’ dicknoodle. Just like when _I_ cried out for help and everyone ignored me. They left you here with me for a reason, so that you could experience what I did. I have some _very_ influential friends, and every single fuckin’ one of them is turnin’ a blind eye to the fact that you and I are having’ this ‘conversation’ tonight.”

Trying again to inch away from Harry, Dumbledore groaned and turned his head. Harry reached a gloved hand down and gripped Dumbledore’s chin tightly, forcing the man to look him in the eye. “You spread so much pain,” Harry spat while he fingered his knife in his other hand. “You made everyone’s life fuckin’ miserable.” 

He brought the tip of the knife to Dumbledore’s throat, nicking near the artery. “You… you don’t deserve to breathe the same breath as the rest of the good people in the world anymore.”

Dumbledore’s eyes had widened in terror, but his mouth couldn’t move with the pressure that Harry had put on it. He attempted futilely to shake loose of the grip, but he was a feeble old man with barely any magic in a weakened state due to being in Azkaban. There was no way for him to win a fight against Harry.

Smiling a vicious smile and baring his teeth fully, Harry snarled, “Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker. This is where you die.”

He pressed in the knife and quickly slit across Dumbledore’s throat, the blood spraying up and out into the room, hitting Harry’s arm. It would have hit Harry in the face had he not ducked out of the arterial spray.

The gurgling sounds of blood pouring out of the dead man brought a calm smile to Harry’s face. Dumbledore’s death mask was pale, eyes open in terror and shock. Harry took out his phone and took a picture for posterity. This was worth making it a wallpaper at least.

Turning to leave, Harry smirked and whispered, “Flawless victory!”

He walked out of the cell, closing and locking it, and vanished the chair he had conjured. Performing a quick _Scourgify_ , he rid himself of the visible blood. He ensured all his weapons were cleared and stowed back on his person before walking slowly down the hallway toward the aurors, whistling jauntily.

As he met up with the two aurors who had escorted him down into the prison, they looked at him with a questioning glance. Harry shrugged and affected his best innocent face.

“Well, he won’t be joining us for the rest of his life,” Harry chuckled.

The aurors smiled slightly and nodded their understanding. Herding Harry up the corridor and out of the prison, they informed him that they had routine checks later on that evening and they were sure that there might be some interesting discoveries.

Harry patted one on the shoulder and snickered, “Yeah, I pity the person who has to clean up that mess. But thank you for tonight. Thanks for your help. Oh, if you see Yaxley, make sure you thank him as well.”

**\----------**

_(Scourge) 22:17_

> so let it b said so let it b done 

_(Scourge) 22:17_

> pic27.jpg

_(Miyagi) 22:18_

> does it feel good kid? 

_(Scourge) 22:19_

> right now ya but ask me agn tmrrw

_(Miyagi) 22:20_

> its been a long time comin

_(Scourge) 22:21_

> i cant bleve its done 

_(Scourge) 22:21_

> feels weird 

_(Miyagi) 22:23_

> let it settle youll be fine

_(Scourge) 22:23_

> goin bak 2 skool 2night

_(Miyagi) 22:24_

> ok you comin home soon? 

_(Scourge) 22:25_

> ya i think i realy got nothin left 2 do here

_(Miyagi) 22:27_

> ok we’ll talk about options tomorrow then 

_(Scourge) 22:35_

> sounds good right now just want 2 sleep

_(Miyagi) 22:35_

> get some rest you deserve it

_(Miyagi) 22:36_

> im proud of you kid 

_(Scourge) 22:36_

> thanks dad ttyl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warnings:** torture, gunshot wounds, description of blood, description of gunshot wounds, knife violence, description of knife wound
> 
> Movies/TV Quoted/Referenced:
> 
>   1. The Spy Who Loved Me (James Bond - 1977)
>   2. Independence Day (1996)
>   3. Pulp Fiction (1994)
>   4. Mortal Kombat (1995)
>   5. Die Hard (1988)
> 



	45. On Goodbye, Fruit Baskets, Farewell and Amen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's time at Hogwarts has come to an end. Ragnok and Harry tie up some loose ends. Harry finally says both 'hello' and 'goodbye'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ripped my heart out... there it is on the floor over there. 💔 That is all.

_thanks dad ttyl_

**\--- April 12 th, 1998 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Hogwarts ---**

The special edition of the Prophet dropped on the table as Harry was enjoying his breakfast. The school was on a temporary shut down due to the uproar over the trial, but students were authorized to stay. The acting Headmistress had cancelled classes for the week, potentially for longer. The Board of Governors was still deciding if she should be in charge. For right now, however, they were not totally cancelling the school year.

Harry had slept like a fuckin' baby the previous night and was just happy that all this bullshit was over. He had returned right after his visit to Azkaban the night before, to gather his personal belongings from the Slytherin dorms. Opting to stay at least one more night under the roof of Hogwarts and allow himself to say goodbye to the school. She seemed pleased with his decision.

Glancing at the headlines, Harry smirked and began to read all about the regrettable death of the former Headmaster and 'Leader of the Light'.

**F ORMER HEADMASTER ALBUS DUMBLEDORE FOUND DEAD IN AZKABAN CELL!!!**  
**Ex-Headmaster Dead of ‘Natural Causes’ Just Two Days After Trial!**   
**_Sentencing Had Not Yet Been Handed Down, But The Wizarding World Had Cried Out For Dementor’s Kiss!_ **

_**A** somber Acting Minster for Magic, Lord Lucius Malfoy, addressed the crowd today regarding the now deceased Albus Dumbledore. Mr. Dumbledore had been incarcerated in Azkaban awaiting his sentencing hearing, set for the 15th of this month. Sadly, or not so sadly – depending on one’s view, the sentencing hearing will not take place, as the defendant is no longer living._

_**W** hen asked how the ex-Headmaster died, Acting Minister Malfoy informed the crowd that it appeared to be natural causes. Two aurors performing their evening checks late on the 11th of April found the defendant, Mr. Dumbledore, stiff in his bed, and cold to the touch. They alerted their superiors, who came and verified the death was legitimate and final. After verification by the head of the DMLE, Corban Yaxley, the deceased was then transferred to the preparation room and his body was dealt with._

_**O** ur readers will remember that Mr. Dumbledore had, just two days ago, been convicted of crimes against the wizarding world, too numerous to count. It is natural to assume that, if the defendant had made it to his sentencing, the Dementor’s kiss would have been the only punishment that could have possibly been decreed. It would have given justice to all of those harmed. As per Mr. Dumbledore’s wishes, the deceased has been cremated. Since there was no one to lay claim to the body or remains, Mr. Dumbledore received the lowest possible pauper’s burial on the grounds of Azkaban. (See story on pg. 6 regarding the turbulent relationship between the Dumbledore brothers.)_

_**T** he Acting Minister stated that only himself and the current head of the DMLE attended the burial, ensuring that the deceased was appropriately buried and gone from this world. This reporter inferred from that statement that no other person desired to be at the funeral, and this reporter agrees with that statement. If there are wizards who would like to pay their respects to the late Mr. Dumbledore, for whatever reason they deem necessary, the Ministry requests that donations be sent to the many charities being set up for those that the ex-Headmaster hurt. A complete list can be seen (Article Continued pg. 2)_

Harry didn't feel the need to read any more. Fuck! They certainly spun that story. Just goes to show that there's always a different story than the one that's printed in the papers. He didn't think that Dumblefuck would consider his death 'natural causes', that's for fuckin' sure. Harry snorted to himself and finished his breakfast. It was time to grab his shit and bounce.

****

**\----------**

Harry took a deep breath as he walked outside the school. He glanced around at the grounds as he rolled his wand back and forth between his fingers, enjoying the sun beating down on his face. It was done. It was finally over. The asshole was dead and gone, never to bother anyone ever again. He couldn’t believe it. He placed the wand in his pocket and let out a long sigh.

On one hand, it was wonderful to have his list complete and everyone on it taken care of. On the other hand, what the fuck was he supposed to do now? He wasn't staying at the school, that was for sure, but did he want to stay in the wizarding world?

He had this Lordship gig that he was supposedly supposed to care about. He still hadn’t come forth as ‘Harry Potter’, so that would take some finagling by the bank… if he chose to go that route. He let out a deep sigh. It seemed like a whole bunch of bother for something he didn’t even think he wanted that much. He would never fit in with these people. He wouldn’t be able to, as stupid as it sounded, find the right fuckin’ fork all the time. Even with all his lessons, he was still pretty rough around the edges. 

And then there was Frank.

Harry had no problem with admitting that he was pretty codependent on his dad. Even though he supposedly had all this money and freedom now, he still wanted to be his ‘sidekick’ or partner. Until Frank quit and passed on the mantle of insane mercenary to him, that is.

And there was also Wade.

Harry couldn’t imagine a life without the insane red tights wearin’ fucker popping in at random times in his life. Sure, there were phones, but there was nothing quite like getting a job and going out on it with one of his best friends. Doing all of his favorite things… shooting, exploding, stabbing, general mayhem. The stuff that true blooded ‘Lords’ just didn’t do.

Yeah, the more Harry thought about this whole ‘staying in the wizarding world’ thing, the more he realized that he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t fit into their mold. 

That decision just meant that there was one horrible thing he had to do. It meant that he had to endure one fuckin’ heart wrenching conversation. It just left him with the hardest fuckin’ goodbye imaginable. 

_Moonbeam_

He thought back to when he first saw her in Diagon Alley and how (okay, he could admit it now) he flinched at her touch. He couldn’t even _imagine_ flinching away from one of her Luna-beam hugs now. Or shying away from when she leaned her head on his shoulder. Or not leaning down to kiss the top of her head when they were relaxing. Or not intertwining their fingers when they were walking. Or not telling each other every little part of their day… or, in her case, when she just _fuckin’ knew_ what happened in his.

_shit_

How was he supposed to say goodbye to that pure goodness? How was he supposed to leave the wonderful sprite who had weaseled her way under his skin? Who had opened up his heart and made him realize that killing wasn’t the only thing in life. Who had shown him that it was okay to have someone other than the guys who raised him to rely on. That it was okay to trust, every once in a while. 

_fuck_

He was gonna make himself fuckin’ cry. He couldn’t even remember crying. Did he cry at the Dursleys? He must have at some point. He probably did, quite a lot, before Vernon the Asshole beat it out of him. He raised his hand to clench at his chest. His heart fuckin’ _hurt_. This whole thing fuckin’ sucked. He knew he was making the right decision, in the end, but it hurt so much.

_goddamnit_

He looked over to the doors of Hogwarts, and his beautiful sprite skipped out of them. She, too, was smiling at the knowledge that Harry’s list was finally done. She knew how much it meant to him that it was over.

“Hello Scourge,” she said as she tilted her head to one side. “Aren't you happy?”

He choked a little and tried to smile genuinely, even though he felt overwhelming sadness at having to say goodbye. “Yeah, Moon, I’m happy. It’s over, isn’t it. It’s all over. No one has to deal with the old fucker anymore.”

She peered at him for a moment then reached out a hand to brush his hair to the side, out of his eyes. “Then why are you so sad inside? It is a happy day!”

Harry lifted one side of his mouth to appease her. “I’m just thinking, that’s all.” He reached out for her hand and intertwined their fingers. Leading her over to one of the benches outside the school, he guided her down next to him.

“You’re going to leave me, aren’t you?” She asked quietly while she fiddled with her beetle necklace nervously.

He closed his eyes, trying not to allow any tears to come to the surface. His words caught in his throat as he tried to speak. _Fuck_. “Yeah, Moon, I think I gotta. I don’t belong here. You and I both know that, right? I mean, I’d never fit in here forever. Frank and I got a good thing goin’ for ourselves.” 

Picking up her other hand and pulling both of them to his heart, he bit his bottom lip nervously. “You know, Luna, I’ve only ever said this to one other person in the whole fuckin’ world, but if anyone else deserves to hear it, it’s definitely _you_.”

She smiled serenely, albeit a little sadly at him, “Yes?”

Harry pulled her in tight for a hug, wrapping his arms around her and leaning his head into the crook of her neck. He mumbled in her hair, “I fuckin’ love you. So, so fuckin’ much. You’ve been my best friend and sanity here. I just… I love you, Moon.”

Leaning back to look into her eyes, he noticed that they had a sheen of tears forming. He brushed a thumb across her cheek, catching any moisture that fell. 

She sent him a wobbly smile and shook her head, “I know, silly. Besides, this isn’t goodbye. This is only ‘I’ll see you later’. We’ll always be Moonbeam and Scourge. You will take them all on and I will light your way.”

Harry snorted in her hair. “You said that to me forever ago, Moon. It’ll be hard to do that when we’re super fuckin’ far apart. You’ll have to be really shiny, or some shit.”

Luna reached for his hand again and gave it a squeeze. “Don’t you know, Scourge? The moon shines everywhere. You’ll be able to see me every day. And we _WILL_ see each other again. I just know it. There are whispers all around. Just listen to them and they’ll let you know.”

Shaking his head at his best friend, Harry sighed. “Yeah, I know. I’m gonna make sure you have a phone too. So you can text me ‘n shit. It will work here, just like mine does. I’ll make sure of it. You have to make sure to send me all the little poems you write and the information about any Fwooper sightings.”

Luna giggled and leaned into his shoulder.

“I’ll miss you,” Harry whispered. “I’ll miss you so fuckin’ much. I can’t imagine what this place would have been like if I hadn’t found you in the hallway that night. Make sure you keep your shoes… yeah?”

“Hmm? Of course I have my shoes. Why would I get rid of those? Crazy.” She shook her head at him, “We have a little while before you go, yet. Let’s just enjoy the afternoon. Look at the clouds and find all the Pygmy Puffs.” She pointed at a couple that might have been shaped like the animal.

Looping their arms together, she gave his a hard squeeze. “Enjoy this time. Yesterday… that’s history, Scourge. And tomorrow? That’s a mystery. But today is a gift, and that’s why we call it the present.” (1)

Harry kissed her tenderly on the cheek, “Yeah, but just in case, just in case it’s a real long time until we see each other again after I leave… I want you to know how much you've meant to me. I'll never be able to shake you; whenever I see a pair of bare feet or a pink, glittery fingernails, I'll think of you. Fuck, I’ll have to do a manicure with Wade one of these days, and take pictures just to keep you happy.”

He chuckled and gave her one last squeeze before pulling her up from the bench. "Tell me one last poem before we leave. Please?"

She smiled at him and joined their hands as they walked down the path toward Hogsmeade, away from Hogwarts, singing softly as they went.

_" **T** he moon above two lovers rose,_  
_**H** ello, hello, hello_  
_**T** heir happiness did the moon expose_  
_**W** ell then, well then, hello_

_**S** he smiled when they greeted_  
_**W** inked when they gave a kiss_  
_**W** as happy to feel so needed_  
_**T** o light th’ lovers’ bliss_

_**B** ut sadness came ‘for too long_  
_**'T** was time for one to go_  
_**A** pparent he just didn’t belong_  
_**L** ove's end under moon's bright glow_

_**‘T** is the close of their story, she cried_  
_**N** o more to see, she’d sigh_  
_**T** hey did their best, they'd tried_  
_**B** ut their affair was doomed to die_

_**T** he lovers smiled at her sadly, _  
_**T** hey consoled the moon, then lied_  
_**I** t wasn't their last farewell, exactly_  
_**T** his wasn’t their final goodbye_

_**T** he moon faded o’re the lovers, sad_  
_**G** oodbye, goodbye, goodbye_  
_**N** o more kisses to be had_  
_**A** las, alas, goodbye"_

It was hard to say goodbye, and it fuckin' _hurt_. Worse than gettin' shot or stabbed. And it was gonna cause him pain for the rest of for-fuckin’-ever, but it was the right thing to do.

He was ready to go.

**\----------**

**\--- April 13 th, 1998 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Gringotts ---**

Ragnok peered over his tented fingers at Harry who sat slouched in the chair across from his desk. “To what do we owe the honor, Mr. Potter?”

Harry sent a slow smirk in his direction. “You’ve been awesome while I’ve been in this world, Ragnok. You’ve helped with the whole will thing, the court thing and even a few… annoyances that needed to be taken care of. I just wanted to iron out some last things regarding my estate before I went back to the states.”

“Hnn, we will be sorry to see your business go, young wizard. There are, after all, so few that understand the true ideals of a warrior.”

Snorting inelegantly, Harry drawled, “Yeaaahhh, I’m pretty sure you and I _definitely_ have the same moral compass. It’s been great working with you.”

“Agreed,” Ragnok grunted, “Now, get down to business. I have little time to waste on the ‘pleasantries’ of humans.”

Harry chuckled softly and shook his head. “Sure, okay. I just need to wrap up my whole… legacy, I guess. I want to make sure that my parents’ wishes from their wills are honored, just not by me, so much. I want to give make sure to set up some sort of charity or something… I dunno. Maybe I’ll run it past Tom too. I’d like to also pass on my Lordship. I can’t see it being worth much to me where I’m going.”

Ragnok scrutinized him for a moment, “So, Mr. Potter, you would like the bank to transfer your Lordship and give away your money?” He shook his head and grumbled under his breath, “Foolish humans and their emotions.”

Shrugging at that statement, Harry curled one side of his mouth up in depreciating a smile. “Yeah, but sometimes, as I’ve been shown over the past year or so, emotions aren’t totally shitty. Not saying I’m gonna start writing Hallmark cards, or some crap, but they’re not _totally_ worthless. Anyway, I want to do that. I don’t need the money. I don’t really feel like it’s mine, anyway. I want it to go to those who Dumblefuck hurt. I want to make sure that those, who didn’t know what they were doing when they were following blindly, get taken care of. And more than that, I want to make sure that what happened to me ‘n Tom can _never_ fuckin’ happen again.”

“The scope of what you are requesting, Mr. Potter, is somewhat beyond our reach. We can help with certain things, but we do not interfere with the laws of wizards. How they treat their young going forth will be up to them, not the goblin race,” Ragnok stated baldly.

“Yeah, I get that. But at least with the money and the Lordship, I figure you can help me there,” Harry said.

Ragnok nodded slowly, “Yes, we can help you with those items. I will draw up the papers here and you will need to authorize them with a drop of your blood. To whom do you desire your Lordship to go?”

“Ah, I’m thinkin’ probably Sirius. He’s the one who would be able to get the most bang out of it, so to speak. And, since Tom’s made sure that everything that old liar said about him was proved false, he can actually go out and about in the world without a disguise now.”

“Hnn,” Ragnok grunted, “That is doable. And the money?”

Harry tapped his fingers on his knee in a nervous gesture. “Uh, I’m thinking a fuck ton of it to charity, maybe make one of those houses into something… an orphanage? Tom and I were orphans. He’d probably be on board with something like that. Um, and I want to make sure that all of the people who were at the will reading get another share. Like a decent amount. I want Severus to be able to buy a crapload of potions ingredients, Sirius to get some shitty jokes, Remus to be able to help out the pack, and even Tom deserves another mug or two for his dictatorship.”

"Is there anything that you _do_ wish to keep from your parents' vaults?" Ragnok asked shrewdly.

Harry thought for a moment and then nodded slowly. "Yeah, my biological dad wanted me to have that invisibility cloak. I'm assuming it's still in the vault since I didn't take it out and no one else has had it."

Ragnok perused the parchment in front of him. "Yes, it is still in our inventory for that vault. I will make sure that it is brought up for you before our business is completed today."

Harry grinned at the goblin, sending him a wink. "You're the bee's knees, you know that Ragnok? If I was stickin' around I might be sendin' you more than just fruit baskets... if you know what I mean."

Grunting in annoyance, Ragnok shook his head. "No, Mr. Potter, I do _not_ know what you mean. Nor do I want to. Now, let me get back to the business at hand." 

Writing some figures down on the parchment in front of him, Ragnok muttered under his breath for a moment. He raised his head and scrutinized Harry. “You will not be able to take this back. Gringotts will consider this the termination of our dealings with you as Lord Potter. That is understood, yes?”

Harry took a deep breath in and nodded. “Yep, that’s what I want.”

Ragnok pushed the parchments toward the end of his desk. “One drop of blood on each, then, Mr. Potter. And might I just say that it has been a genuine pleasure to have your business.”

Pulling out his knife, Harry nicked his thumb and spread a drop of blood on each paper. He quirked a smile at the goblin and said, “Thanks for everything Ragnok. I’ll miss you. I’m glad we didn’t end up killing each other.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a shrunken item. Placing it on Ragnok’s desk, he waved his hand and resized the fruit basket he had brought.

“For you,” Harry said, with a deep bow and flourish. “May your fruits always be ripe, and not rotten. May you never want for fresh squeezed juice, and may your enemies always slip on banana peels.” 

He shot Ragnok a cheeky grin before standing tall and placing his fist over his heart. “But seriously, Ragnok, you’ve been great. May your coffers overflow and your enemies fall at your feet.”

Ragnok eyed the fruit dubiously before he also stood and placed his gnarled fist over his heart. “May your gold ever multiply, and your enemy’s heads tumble before you.” He paused for a moment and gave Harry an appraising nod, “You would have been a passable goblin warrior, Mr. Potter. I wish you well.”

****

**\----------**

**\--- April 13 th, 1998 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Godric's Hollow - Graveyard ---**

Frank stood to the back of the graveyard, leaning against a tree. His arms were crossed, as were his feet at the ankle. He looked ever the picture of imposing mercenary ‘relaxation’. He was there to make sure that no one bothered Harry as he finally went to ‘meet’ his parents. 

Harry couldn’t believe that it had taken him this long to come here. It might have been that he just didn’t really care in the beginning of this whole adventure. It wasn’t like he had known anything about them before. He hadn’t known that they loved him, that they tried so hard to save him from whatever horrible shit that Fuckledore had planned. They _tried_ , though.

Gazing down at the graves of James F. Potter and Lily J. Potter, Harry felt a sadness come over him. He never got to meet these people. From everything he had been told by his ‘uncles’, they were pretty fuckin’ awesome. And they were taken from him by an asshole with some bizarre plan to make everyone follow him. They were victims. Fuck, they were _all_ victims in this shitty story.

Scratching the back of his neck in slight embarrassment, Harry nervously shuffled his feet. “Um, hi there? Uh, I know we’ve never talked before. I dunno why it took me so long to come here. I just guess it didn’t really seem like you guys were part of my life. But I guess you were a huge part of it, I mean besides being my biological parents and all. You tried to set me up with a pretty awesome future. I may not have been able to actually live the one you set up for me, but it’s the thought that counts and all that jazz, right?”

Harry cleared his throat and looked back at Frank, who had yet to move from his position by the tree. He wiped sweaty palms on his coat and continued, “You see that guy over there? That’s Frank. He’s my dad. He saved me and raised me up real good. I know that you guys are my parents, but he’s my _dad_. And he’s a real fuckin’ good one. So, you don’t need to worry about me, yeah? He might not have the same sort of ‘idea of parenting’ that you guys would have, but we’re good. I’m good.”

Taking a deep breath, he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I know you wanted me to be all set up in this world and shit, but I gotta be honest with you, it’s just not me. I’m used to a different life. I gave this one a decent try, I think. Well, if you ignore the whole vengeance and killing thing. Anyway, I _did_ try to fit in. Kinda. But it didn’t really work. So, Frank ‘n me, we’re gonna head back to New York now. Most of our houses are there. Gonna get set up in the merc business again.” 

“And, Deadpool, he’s fuckin’ awesome. You would love him. Well, maybe. Actually, I’m not too sure. Tom fuckin’ hates him. Kills him on sight whenever he’s around. I guess he’s one you either love or hate. There’s no real in between. Luna _loves_ him, but she pretty much loves everything. Even things that don’t fuckin’ exist,” Harry snorted. “Anyway, Dead ‘n the two of us are gonna go back out on missions soon. I’m pretty excited. Missed having my dad at my six, and bein’ out on ops.”

“You know,” Harry said quietly, “I don’t know what it would have been like if we had all lived together. We might have been truly happy, but I guess we'll never know. I doubt it's like every family is happy like that anyway, no matter what the storybooks say. I just want you to know that I _am_ happy with the family I've made for myself. I hope I’ve done you proud. I hope I got good enough revenge for your deaths. I hope, that if there _is_ an afterlife, you’re up there and you see me doin’ my best to make this life you gave me a good one. I’m gonna do what you said in your wills. I’m gonna fuckin’ _live_ and enjoy my life. I’m gonna do it as me, not as someone that people want me to be. I’m just gonna be Harry. Biological son of James and Lily. Adopted son of Frank. Friend of a crazy Merc with a Mouth, a Wolverine and a fuckin’ Moonbeam. I’m gonna do my best.”

“So,” he said with a shuddering breath, “that’s pretty much it. Thanks for giving me life. I’m gonna make you proud.” He reached out a hand and touched both of their graves, tenderly running the tip of his finger along the top of each one.

“It was nice to meet you. I’ll come back and chat again sometime.” He turned away and started walking back to Frank, before turning and whispering, “ _Thank you, mom and dad._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1. Quote 'misquoted': _“Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, today is a gift of God, which is why we call it the present.”_ \- Bil Keane (1994)
> 
> Movies/TV Quoted/Referenced:
> 
>   1. M*A*S*H (TV – 1972-1983)
>   2. Star Wars: Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back (1980)
>   3. The Princess Bride (1987)
> 



	46. On Being Ordinary Once Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Tom iron out the best way to say ‘goodbye’. Life goes back to ordinary…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end, my friend. Thank you for hanging in there with me. I hope you have enjoyed my tale of revenge, violence and bizarre friendship. While I don't have plans for a sequel yet, per se, I am planning a series of one-shots from this a/u. You have been wonderful with your comments/kudos. I have appreciated every single one. 💜

_“Thank you, mom and dad.”_

**\--- April 15 th, 1998 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

_(Moon) 19:17_

> look what i can do! 

_(Moon) 19:17_

> “ψ (｀∇´) ψ

_(Scourge) 19:18_

> wher did u get that 

_(Scourge) 19:19_

> wait dont tell me… dead?

_(Moon) 19:20_

> he said you would like it

_(Scourge) 19:21_

> i <3 it moonbeam 

_(Scourge) 19:21_

> uh do u kno what it means? 

_(Moon) 19:23_

> he said it was me cheering

_(Scourge) 19:23_

> ah huh ok that means pure evil 

_(Moon) 19:24_

> oh like cheering for you! 

_(Scourge) 19:25_

> lol yep just like that

_(Moon) 19:27_

> i will ask him to teach me more! 

_(Moon) 19:35_

> ʕ•̀ω•́ʔ****

_(Moon) 19:35_

> so cute!

_(Scourge) 19:36_

> sure is beam cutest ever 

****

**\----------**

**\--- April 16 th, 1998 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Ministry of Magic ---**

Harry sat in Tom’s office. Frank sat next to him, quietly supporting whatever he chose to do with his future. Harry tapped his fingers against his knee, trying to figure out the best way to explain what he wanted to have happen to the man who had helped him out with his self-imposed quest for the past couple years. Who had helped him integrate into the wizarding world. Who had helped him _finally_ put an end to the reign of a manipulative megalomaniac who thought he knew best for all those in his world.

“So… I guess I’ll start?” Harry said slowly. Tom inclined his head and Frank just grunted in acceptance. 

“Well, your esteemed closeted Minister for Magic, sir. Look at you go with being all sneaky behind the scenes. It's actually kinda funny how people think that Lucy actually is in charge. Although, with that hair..." Harry coughed pointedly. He smirked at Tom and continued, "I can honestly say that this has been a fuckin’ trip of a couple years. I’m glad that you’re all set up and runnin’ the world and all that shit.” He sent Tom a wink and cooed, “You fuckin’ dictator, you.”

Tom narrowed his eyes and waved a hand at Harry. “Get on with it, Scourge. I do have minions to order about.”

Harry snorted, “Always with the fuckin’ jokes! I tell you Tommy, if this whole ruling the world thing ever falls through, you should take your show on the road. I'd buy tickets... front fuckin' row. I'd be president of your fan club. Buttons and everything!”

Frank let out a light chuckle and knocked his knee against Harry’s.

“But seriously, I think that we all knew that this was comin’. I’m not meant for this place. I don’t fit in. I will _never_ fall into this ‘Lordship’ shit. I gave it a try, although I was doin’ all that murdering and vengeance shit while I was tryin’. It’s just not me. I’m with Frank. We do things our way. I just want to go back to normal, I think. I want to go where I fit in. Where I get to help out the good guys sometimes, and I don’t have to care about what fuckin’ fork to use when I’m eating my Cup ‘o Noodle during a stakeout.”

Tom pursed his lips and tented his fingers in front of his chin as he scrutinized Harry. “So you are leaving before the end of term? Although, with your history and interesting educational background, I understand that it is probably not that important for you to complete your year out at Hogwarts. And what do you intend to do with your wealth, holdings and Lordship? Those things will still need to be handled, even if you are no longer part of this world.”

Harry leaned back in his chair, “Well, the Harry Potter ‘savior’ guy will never be back to help out. Leave that to people who want that notoriety or whatnot. I'm plannin' on just divvyin' it up. Maybe give the name to Sirius, since he’s my godfather? With a little asterisk at the bottom of whatever contract thingy saying that Severus and Remus help out and get some shit from it too? I spoke to Ragnok about all this shit the other day. He's got some things going for me already.”

Frank leaned over and nudged him, “You wanted to do that other thing too, remember?”

“Oh, yeah! Can we make like some sort of orphanage or something? I think that would be a decent use of the money my biological parents left me. I mean, it would have been better for people like you and me to be able to have a place where we grew up that we weren’t treated like absolute shit.” 

Tom nodded, “There have already been plans set in motion to build better care facilities for abused, abandoned and orphaned witches and wizards. However, I would be happy to put it into a codicil, which is the _‘asterisk’_ you spoke of earlier, that you want the majority of your fortune to be gifted to the cause.”

“That sounds good,” Harry nodded. “And the Lordship bit? You and Ragnok can get that taken’ care of too?”

Letting out a sigh, Tom slowly inclined his head in agreement. “Are you sure? If you sign this over through legal means, there would be no going back.”

Harry glanced at Frank, who had a stoic expression (of course), then back at Tom. “Yeaaah, I think that’s what I want. This world doesn’t work for me. I just want to go back to what I was.”

“Okay then, Scourge, we will ensure that what you want will happen. I do have to extend my gratitude for all of your help with Dumbledore. It was a joy to watch the old goat be brought down in the world that he assumed followed only him. You have earned my thanks.” He removed his Gaunt ring from his finger and placed it and Dumbledore’s wand, that Lucius had confiscated after the trial, on the desk in front of Harry. Harry looked at him quizzically. 

Tom explained, “The wand is yours, as you were the one who defeated the old goat. It will now respond to you as its rightful owner. And I would like you to accept this ring as a token of my thanks. It is my family ring, and I would like you to have it to remember that you are always welcome to return to the wizarding world. That I have seen you as a part of my ‘family’, as it were. There will always be a place for you, if you so choose to come back.”

Blushing a little at the praise, Harry reached out and took the wand and the ring, placing it on his left hand. As he slipped it on, a settling magic flowed through his body. He glanced at the other two men in the room to see if they noticed anything, but neither of them seemed to be bothered. He just shrugged it off as inconsequential and continued his chat with Tom.

“I am sure that Lord Malfoy will want to give you a proper sendoff with all of the people you have become acquainted with during your time here,” Tom 

Harry balked at that idea, “Uh, is it cool if we just order some Domino’s and have a few people get together? I don’t need some big fuckin’ send off or nothing.”

Tom’s brow wrinkled in confusion, “Domino’s?”

“Never mind. I’ll do somethin’ small with you guys, but only with the people I originally met when I got here. And Luna, of course.”

Waving his hand in acceptance, Tom stated drolly, “Of course, we would _never_ disclude your precious Ms. Lovegood. She is, after all, one of the main reasons that this whole plan came to fruition in the end, is she not?”

“Yeah, can’t forget Moon." Harry glanced at Frank, who gave him a sharp nod. "Anyway, we’re gonna bounce. Learn to use a fuckin’ phone, every once in a while, and send me a text. I did love sending you owls, but they’re pretty hard to come by in New York,” Harry snarked.

Tom rose as they started for the door. “Thank you again, Mr. Potter. The wizarding world does owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“Eh, fuhgeddaboudit. Just worked well with my plans, too.”

Harry and Frank both nodded their goodbyes and walked out of Tom’s office, happy to once again get back to a ‘normal’ life.

**\----------**

_(Scourge) 12:12_

> redy to peace ths place 

_(Dead) 12:14_

> baby scourge!! i miss ur face ;) 

_(Scourge) 12:14_

> it luks th same as last time fukr 

_(Dead) 12:16_

> tru but if you are close i can cover it with kisses

_(Dead) 12:17_

> ( ˘ ³˘)<3

_(Scourge) 12:22_

> thers somthn wrong w/ u n stap teachn moon 2 txt

_(Scourge) 12:23_

> anywy comin home soon 

_(Dead) 12:25_

> i’ll hide the strippers

_(Dead) 12:26_

> or get some? are you old enough for that? virgin eyes!!!

_(Dead) 12:26_

> maybe i should check with wolvie first before i book them

_(Scourge) 12:29_

> yeaaaaa hold off 4 now

_(Scourge) 12:30_

> i’ll c u in a cple days anywy 

_(Dead) 12:31_

> ok but epic welcome home partaaayy in NY 

_(Scourge) 12:31_

> cant wait

_(Dead) 12:33_

> see you soon bitty baby scourge! hugs!!! 

****

**\----------**

**\--- April 20 th, 1998 (Seventeen Years Old) ---**

**\--- Little Whinging Library ---**

Harry sat on the steps of the Little Whinging Library, back where it had all started almost eleven years ago. Frank had gone to get the London house closed up and grab Wade and Logan, who were flying them back to New York in the X-plane. He wanted to come here for a while first, to say his own goodbye to London. And Frank, he understood. 

Harry, Sirius, Remus and Severus had their own little ‘goodbye’ party at Grimmauld Place a couple evenings before. Sirius enjoyed a little _too_ much Fire Whisky and started getting weepy about the fact that his pup was leaving yet again. Remus attempted to cheer him up by saying that Harry wasn’t really going away ‘forever’, that they knew where he was. Harry even let himself endure some very fuckin' _awkward_ hugs. But Sirius wasn’t calmed completely until Severus called him a ‘dunderheaded blundering fool’ and to calm himself because Harry was not dying, he was merely a message away.

Of the three men, Harry would have _never_ guessed that Severus would be the one to embrace using a magically tweaked phone. Harry figured that it was because he had made that promise so long ago to specifically look out for Lily’s son. Harry was pretty much gearing himself up to be sent short dissertations on how he should be taking care of himself, studying further and ensuring that he is making something of his life. 

He was pretty happy that he had met these guys. He may have never met his biological family, but he felt like he had added to his makeshift fucked-up one by getting to know them. He doubted that they would ever join him and Frank on any 'adventures', but they might just jump over to New York every once in a while. Maybe pull themselves out of the 12th century and join the 20th. Only time would tell.

As he sat there waiting, flipping his knife in the air, and ruminating on his past in the wizarding world, he considered how fuckin’ lucky he was that he happened to be in the library at the same time that a mercenary needed to slip in and take a break from a mission that he was on. He was so ridiculously fortunate that Frank just _happened_ to need a place to stop before he went to his London safehouse, and he just _happened_ to see some small raggedy kid who needed help. He couldn't imagine if he had been left to the Dursleys. What if he had been taken in by Dumbledore when he was eleven? Sure, he would have known magic, but would he have bought into the insane propaganda that the man preached? Would he have been a sheep brought to slaughter?

And what about Tom? He was just as much a victim in all of this too. Fuckin' Frank saved them both, without even really trying. It would have been weird if this was all some fucked up dream that he woke from and was back in that horrible house. But it wasn't. He was safe and sound. Dumbledore was gone. Life would go on without an insane megalomaniac trying to take over the world and eradicate half of all its magic. Shit, by that thought process, Frank fuckin' saved magic! Harry snorted to himself, and Frank didn't even _like_ magic that much. He would have to point this whole thing out to him when they were on their way home. Oh, the fuckin' irony. Maybe he and Dr. Strange would be friends now. (Doubt it.)

Yeah, Harry was pretty fuckin’ lucky. And he couldn’t wait to continue on in their adventures. 

He wasn’t sad that he was leaving, per se, in fact if he didn’t come back for a long while that would be okay. But he would miss his Moon. He would miss seeing her every day and hearing about the weird Fizzlebibs that were sprouting hairs out of his ears to ward off the Warbleflubbs. Or some such shit. He would miss her smile and her ability to bring genuine joy to every situation, even a gruesome murder.

They had promised to keep in touch, though. So that was something. She loved texting already, and he had a feeling that his phone would be filled with observations of her last year of school, of her adventures, of the silly things that she loved. But, yeah, he would fuckin’ miss her the most. Sure, he _was_ happy to be leaving, but it almost felt like he had ripped out his heart and was leaving it here in her tiny sprite-like hands.

As if thinking of her made her appear, he saw a blond-haired girl skipping toward him. Wand stuck in her bun, a bag slung over her shoulder. She had a giant smile on her face, and her shirt had a sparkly unicorn on it. At least she was fuckin' wearing shoes.

Harry immediately jumped to his feet and hurried to meet her. “Moon! What the fuck are you doing here? We said goodbye! I don’t wanna say fuckin’ goodbye again. I don’t like that. It makes me feel like absolute shit to see you cry.”

She gifted him a tight hug and leaned back to look into his eyes. “I don’t _have_ to say goodbye, silly. I talked to daddy and we agreed that I should start planning for my future. I needed to leave early, and that was okay with him. He understands. Mum understands too, she told me in a dream.”

Scratching the back of his head in confusion, Harry asked, “What do you mean, ‘planning for your future’, Luna-beam?”

“Well, since you’re the Master of Death now, you need my help. I mean, you _were_ chosen and everything. I told you. Remember, silly? And it’s part of my destiny to help you with your future quests. That is more important than finishing Hogwarts, even daddy says so. I can go to school anywhere, but _you're_ only where you are when you're there. And that's where I need to be... where you are.”

“UHHhhhh, what?” Harry coughed out incredulously. “What the fuckin’ hell is the ‘Master of Death’???”

“Hmm? Oh, we’ll come back to that. It’s not that important, really. What are you planning to do now?” She asked as she fiddled with her beetle necklace.

“We’ll come back… okay,” He mumbled, before huffing out an amused breath, still thoroughly confused at the whole situation. “Uh, well, I dunno, really. I guess Frank and I will probably do the same thing we do every day. Try to stop people from taking over the world. Travel to exotic, distant lands; meet exciting, unusual people... kill them.(1) You know, the usual.” Harry was still hung up on the ‘Master of Death’ thing, but he knew better than to rush his Moonbeam.

“That sounds fun. Can I join?”

“Wait, what?? Can you join? Are you seriously asking if you can join Frank and I over in New York and around the world on our missions?”

She spared him a slightly condescending look, “Well, yes, Scourge. I’m good at magic. I know your fighting style. I think we like each other.” She paused for a moment so that he could nod in agreement. “And if I come with, I can get the Nargles to stay away from you.”

“Maybe? I think that’s something Frank’ll have to agree on. But, uh, can we get back to this whole ‘Master of Death’ thing you’ve tagged me with?” Harry asked as he attempted to steer the conversation.

“Oh! Yes, well, you have your invisibility cloak, when you toppled the old goat you got the Elder wand, and if I am not mistaken… you are currently wearing the soul stone.(2) Your aura has gone distinctly darker. Not a bad dark, but one that can commune with the other side. I know you will need someone who can interpret these things. That’s why I told daddy that I was needed by you, and I wouldn’t be attending Hogwarts for my last year,” she informed him concisely.

Harry’s eyes had widened through her explanation. “Ah huh. So, I have ‘mastered’ death, now, have I? Am I like Wade? Can I just die and come back however much I want to? Moon, I genuinely love you so, but that’s even a bit of a stretch for you.”

Luna giggled and shook her head, “You’ll learn. It’s okay that you don’t understand right now. The important thing is that you learn before…”

They were interrupted by Frank walking up the sidewalk to get Harry. “Hey kid, you ready? I want to get going soon. Logan ‘n Wade are waiting.” He spared a glance for Luna and then asked Harry, “What’s Sprite doin’ here?”

Harry wrinkled his nose and lifted a shoulder in question, “She wants to come with?”

“With who?” Frank grunted, glancing between the two kids in front of him.

“With us?”

“No,” Frank growled. “We’re not takin’ her on.”

"Frank, please? You took me on when I wasn't trained. You took a chance on me... please take a chance on her? She says she wants to go. Fuckin' _please_??" Harry begged Frank. 

Luna piped in, “It’s ok with daddy, Mr. Punisher, sir. He knows that I’ll be taken care of. He knows that this is what I’m supposed to do.” She opened her bag and reached in to get a folded letter. Handing it to Frank, she stood quietly while he read. He looked at the letter, at Luna and then back at the letter.

Snorting quietly and shaking his head, Frank folded the letter and gave it back to Luna. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. (Harry figured there was a _lot_ that Frank wanted to say to the girl, but he was holding back from sayin' it.) He scrutinized her for a moment and said, “You sure? You’ll need to fuckin’ train, and we’re not very good at girl crap. I’ll be fuckin’ _pissed_ if you try to stick sequins on our gear or glitter up our weapons, or some shit. And I’m not volunteerin’ to get my damned nails painted. Kid ‘n you can do that crud.”

“That’s fine, Mr. Punisher. I will only paint things muted colors and Scourge doesn’t mind having pink fingernails. Also, I’m sure about leaving with you. It’s what I’m supposed to do right now. And I’m good at training. I’ll just need to make sure to stay away from Heliopaths, since I’m having the biggest issue with those right now. Besides, Mr. James said that there was always a spot in his school if I ever wanted to go there. I think that it sounds lovely there. I want to meet this Hank who is all blue, or maybe even play a game of poker with Mr. LeBeau,” she beamed at Frank.

Harry was about bouncing on his toes in excitement at this point. He would need to dissuade her from playing poker games with Remy, but holy crap!! Frank's resolve was cracking. This was going to happen! His best fuckin’ friend in the whole world was going to come with them!!!

Frank sighed again, long and loud. (Harry could tell that he was already giving in. Frank only sighed like that when he gave in to Wade and Harry's bad ideas, letting the fallout happen as it would.) He glanced up at the library, perhaps also remembering the time when he rescued a small boy from a horrible life. “Fine. Come on. I’m assuming you have all you need in that magic bag or some shit. Just make sure you keep up. We'll make sure that all the papers are taken care of before we get out of here.” He narrowed his eyes at Harry, "She's your responsibility too. You have to look out for her and help her get all trained up. I expect you to actually work, and not just fuck off."

They both nodded at him excitedly, then Harry hugged Luna hard and spun her around a little. “We’re goin’ to New York, Moon! You’re gonna love it!!! The pizza there is awesome! We’ll get you all trained up. You’ll meet all the X-Guys. We’re gonna have so much fun and do so many awesome things!!!”

Luna laughed and started walking toward the car with Frank and Harry. She hummed a little below her breath before saying, “Oh yes, I’ve seen that we’ll do many, many good things together.”

She linked her arms between Frank and Harry and grinned at them both.

“Just wait until we meet Thanos…”

_**~ Fin ~** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1. Charles Rosner Poster (1971) - US ARMY Anti-War Poster  
> 2. The Resurrection Stone from the Harry Potter universe and the Soul Stone from the MCU are basically the same thing with the same powers. Luna just called it by the MCU name.
> 
> Movies/TV Quoted/Referenced:
> 
>   1. The Honeymooners (TV – 1955-1956)
>   2. Pinky and the Brain (TV - 1995-1999)
> 


**Author's Note:**

> This is a purely self-indulgent book including a Harry Potter who doesn't have to deal with any silly horcruxes from Voldemort. He's strong, magically and physically, and enjoys a good bloody kill every once in a while. He's got a good network of insane tights-wearing superheroes. Also, not a Pettigrew fan, so he's not a Marauder in this book. He's there and he's whiney (as usual), but definitely not in their core group. Some of the 'superheroes' in this book are more bloodthirsty and vicious than they normally come across in their respective universes FYI. Also, remember that according to some sources, The Punisher had the highest kill count in the MCU (besides Tony Stark counting the use of his weapons by others) so if Harry was raised in his image... well, you get the idea. _Hopefully._
> 
> I am my own (worst) editor, so feel free to send a comment my way if I mess something up. I'll be happy to fix it.


End file.
